


Wake Up, Sleeper

by penpenhooray



Series: Wake Up Series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben's return to the light, F/M, Force-Sensitive Finn, Force-Sensitive Hux, Hux is a double agent, Hux is a manipulative bastard and he saves the world, Hux is a sleeper agent, Jedi Hux, Lightside au, M/M, Manipulation, Past Relationship(s), Redemption, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penpenhooray/pseuds/penpenhooray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would seem odd that the Resistance should always seem to get their information just a bit faster than the First Order. Of course, General Leia Organa knows the risks her mole is taking by sending her life saving information.</p><p>Luke was confident in his padawan's ability to infiltrate the First Order to destroy it from the inside, and he trusted his pupil's instincts.</p><p>And Hux? Well, he's spent over a decade as a sleeper agent within the bowels of the First Order when he feels an awakening in the Force, and he's decided it's time to begin the destruction of the First Order. And he's going to bring Ben back to the Light if it's the last thing he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not going to lie, this idea would not leave me alone! I love Kylux, but almost all of them are angsty little trashcans. And on the kinkmeme, loads of people discuss various character's as moles/double agents, so I decided to try my hand at making sure our favorite trashcans have a happy ending!

General Leia Organa had hoped that the war would have ended after Endor. She had hoped that perhaps she could focus on her newly formed family and have a normal life. But the Force seemed hell-bent on staying out of balance. Thirty years, and they were no closer to peace than they had been when the Empire had been in power.

 

But this time, she didn’t have Luke by her side. She didn’t have Han, wherever that nerf-herder was. And she didn’t have her son, her beautiful baby boy…

 

In the darkest corners of her mind, Leia wondered if she would let the galaxy burn if it meant she could have Ben back in her arms. The thought alone was enough to give her chills up her spine.

 

“General.”

 

Leia looked up across the conference table and into the eyes of Poe Dameron. If Leia was honest with herself, Poe was probably the closest thing she had to having her brother and husband back, being an uncanny blend of the two. It wasn’t the same, but she tried not to let it bother her too much.

 

“Poe, the assignment I am giving you is top secret, as it involves the map to my brother’s location.” She began, sliding a data chip over to the young pilot, “You are to go to Jakku, specifically to the village Tuanul found at the coordinates on this chip. Ask for Lor San Tekka.”

 

Poe grasped the chip tightly, “And Lor San Tekka has the map?” He asked, eyebrow raised ever so slightly out of curiosity.

 

Leia nodded firmly.

 

There was a moment when Poe did not respond immediately, simply examining the chip as if he were inspecting it. Then, “How did we come by this information?”

 

To this, Leia frowned, “Commander Dameron, I’m sure you can appreciate the fact that I am not at liberty to divulge all of my sources. If not for your safety and the safety of this base, then for the safety of my source.”

 

“I didn’t mean to pry, General.” Poe shook his head, “I suppose I’m simply asking how much you trust this information.”

 

“I trust it with my life.” Leia stated with a finality that brokered no room for argument. Not that Poe would argue with her, he was a loyal soldier…even if he was a bit reckless at times. But then again, maybe that was one of the things she liked about him.

 

“That’s all I needed, General.” Poe nodded, standing from the table, “I won’t fail you.”

 

“I know you won’t. You're to leave immediately.” The general nodded, waving him off in dismissal.

 

It wasn’t until the doors closed behind Poe that Leia allowed herself to slump tiredly in her chair, her fingers tracing the screen of her datapad gently to open a file. it was the same data that was on the chip she had provided to Poe, along with the encrypted message that had been sent with it.

 

_Map on Jakku. Lor San Tekka. Will delay FO, two days max. B on recovery mission._

 

Leia read over the words again, before allowing her eyes to close. The file had arrived to Leia personally, encrypted, translated, and encrypted again, with no indication of who the sender was. And that alone told Leia all she needed to know about the source.

 

She hadn’t been lying to Poe, she couldn’t divulged her source...mainly because she didn’t know who exactly he was. She had known him, once upon a time, back when he was a young padawan, volunteering for an assignment more dangerous than anything the Resistance had ever conceived.

 

_“I’m not afraid, General.” The young man, almost a boy in his years, stood before her, not even flinching as she proposed what was basically a suicide mission to him. “I will retrieve Ben, and I will stop the First Order.”_

 

That had been nearly fifteen years ago, when Leia had been distraught enough to even suggest planting a mole in the ranks of the First Order, and Luke had been determined enough to bring forth his padawan, one of only two to survive Ben’s...the attack, as the candidate for the mission.

 

_“His training is almost complete, Leia.” Luke had insisted, “His control of the Force is stronger than any of my pupils, Ben included. If anyone can remain undetected, it’s Braeda.”_

 

_“And what if we lose him too? What if he’s called to the Dark Side like Ben was? We can’t afford to take risks like this.”_

 

_“We can’t afford not to.”_

 

It had been almost a year after they sent the padawan into the depths of the First Order before they heard anything. During that time, Leia had assumed the worst: that he had been captured, tortured and killed, or worse, had become a willing soldier of tyranny.

 

But then came a small snippet of code, sent to Leia’s datapad. It wasn’t much, just the location of a small raid the First Order intended on conducting that was a bit too close to a Resistance base. But it had helped.

 

The small bits of information kept coming. Nothing consistent, she could go weeks or even a standard month without receiving any word. But information would come. And as the years passed, the information grew in level of importance, revealing confidential information of First Order plans. The young padawan was climbing the ranks, and in return, the information he was gathering was saving more and more lives.

 

But Leia had no idea who he was now. He was lost to the web of the First Order, with no way of extraction, and unable to do anything but send messages to Leia.

 

_B on recovery mission._

 

Ben would be on the mission to Jakku then. And wherever the padawan was, he could keep a good eye on Ben. Leia could only hope that Ben was still Ben...and that there was a chance he could be saved. But she also knew that, if it came down to the galaxy or her son, she would have a hard time choosing which to save.

 

* * *

 

 

There were many things that were well known in the First Order about General Hux. He was ruthless, cold, and shrewd. Where most had a heart, he only had a cold, steely ball of ambition. When he said “jump,” you didn’t ask “how high?” because he would just have you disposed of for being inefficient and find someone else to jump. And you never, _ever_ , questioned his orders.

 

So when word went out that the general did not want to be disturbed in his office, not even Captain Phasma thought intrude on what important business Hux was conducting.

 

It was a good thing, too, considering the fact that at that moment, the not-so-good general was sitting on the floor of his office, legs crossed and eyes closed as he entered deep meditation. Not exactly the behavior of a strait-laced general, so it was not exactly a behavior he wanted known.

 

Meditation had been a luxury that Hux had only been able to recently indulge in to the fullest extent. Before, it had been too dangerous, he was overseen too often, and he didn’t trust his control to keep himself hidden. It was by the will of the Force that he was granted the freedom to commune with the Force through meditation. Especially so late in the game, with the stakes being as high as they were. They were no longer gambling with thousands of lives, they were gambling with billions.

 

With a deep breath, Hux allowed himself to release those thoughts to the Force, finding peace through the exercise.

 

 _Master, the First Order is closing in on the map._ His thoughts reached out, trying to establish a connection through a weakened training bond. How many years had it been since he had last communicated with his master? Since he last spoke to the man?

 

_Your thoughts betray you, my padawan._

 

Despite the reprimand, Hux allowed himself to smile slightly, _I apologize, Master._

 

_You have protected yourself well, so far. Do not allow your thoughts to endanger you at this point._

 

_I won’t, Master. But if I may...it is good to hear from you._

 

 _And from you, my padawan. I had feared the worst._ There was a pause in his master’s presence, though Hux could still feel him through the Force, _I trust that you did not risk contacting me just to inform me that the First Order has made progress on the map?_

 

 _No, Master._ Hux took another calming breath, _I believe the time has come for me to act. I have passed on the information about the map to the General, and I hope I have given them enough of a head start to claim the map first--_

 

_There's something else._

 

He could never hide anything from his Master, not even when he had been a youngling, _Yes...the bond between Snoke and Kylo Ren has begun to fray. The rage that had consumed Ben has died out, and his believe in the Dark Side is already wavering._

 

_You have felt it? Are you sure?_

 

_He hides it well, Master, but I have felt his presence in the hours of silence he spends in his room. I feel the regret._

 

_Regret will not be enough._

 

 _Master, I_ know _I can make him feel the call of the Light once more. I can bring him back, and end this war for good._

 

Another pause, a contemplative one. Then,

 

_Trust your instincts. And I will trust you._

 

Hux sighed, though it was hard to tell if it was with relief or trepidation, _Thank you, Master._

 

_After all of this, the next time we meet, I may not be your master, nor you, my padawan. But there is no time to dwell, you have work to do. May the Force be with you._

 

 _And with you, Master._ And with that, Hux was alone in his office once more, the presence of his Master long gone. But he could not dwell on that.

 

There were many things that were well known about General Hux. There were many of those things that were simply not true, crafted by a well honed persona. But there were some things of First Order knowledge that were completely true. The first and foremost being that General Hux was a man of strategy and planning.

 

What they didn’t know was he was a man of great patience. It had made him an anomaly as a youngling, but had served him well as a padawan and as a mole. One can do a great deal in a decade, especially when no one suspects you of being up to something. As such, Hux had gone through great pains of crafting the linchpin of the First Order, the one piece that would cause the others to fall in place.

 

And it was time to pull the pin.

 

Hux quickly made his way to his desk, pulling up the plans for the reconnaissance mission to Jakku. There were several units being dispatched, likely more than they would truly need, but the First Order had a habit of using excessive force. His eyes scanned the dossier quickly, looking at the troopers who were being deployed. Well, one more pair of boots on the ground wouldn’t be noticed. They never do notice a single soldier…

 

With a deceptively calm hand, Hux typed in the extra designation on the dossier.

 

_FN-2187_

 

* * *

 

 

In all honesty, discovering FN-2187 had been an act of the Force. Hux had not been intended to receive the file detailing the young Stormtrooper’s abnormalities, as he was only a Captain at the time,  it had been an error in communications. And though Hux was sure the fate of the communications officer in charge of the message was not a pleasant one, he was grateful for the file.

 

A Stormtrooper with high levels of empathy. That had been noteworthy. Observing FN-2187 and realizing that the Force was flitting within the young soldier, _that_ changed everything.

 

He wasn’t surprised that Kylo Ren did not sense the Force within the Stormtrooper, the Master of the Knights of Ren was too consumed by his own internal struggles to notice a lowly Stormtrooper. And that went double for Snoke, who couldn’t be bothered to be seen by his armies.

 

And that suited Hux just fine. He had to wait until he was in a position with enough power before he could make real changes, but once he was, it was all too easy to foster the Light within FN-2187. Reports of his abnormalities would go missing before they could be placed on record, training would always take place with elite instructors, though combat missions would be always be reassigned to another trooper. And requests for reconditioning would always be diverted, each reconditioning officer believing the other had performed the task.

 

In reality, Hux would always “recondition” FN-2187.

 

_The first time FN-2187 reported to reconditioning, Hux could feel the apprehension rolling off the soldier in waves. That apprehension was replaced with confusion, and a good dose of fear, when he realized that it was not his commanding officer waiting for him in the conference room, but rather the commanding General of the First Order._

 

_Hux had not allowed him a chance to question the situation, “You will have a seat. FN-2187.”_

 

_The soldier complied readily, unused to training himself against a Force suggestion._

 

_“You will pretend to be reconditioned to fit the standard of the First Order.” Hux continued, pouring his influence on the Force over the younger man, “You will continue to strive to be an exemplary soldier, but continue to feel the emotions you have been told are flaws.”_

 

_Hux stared into the blackness of FN-2187’s visor, “You will pretend to be a perfect soldier.”_

 

_“I...I will pretend to be a perfect soldier.”_

 

_“Good.”_

 

It had gone on like that for several years, with Hux more or less forcing FN-2187 to shield himself from the observations of his commanding officers, with fewer and fewer “reconditioning” sessions occurring in which Hux reinforced his command. Soon, FN-2187 did not require Hux’s suggestion to pretend, it came natural to him. And no one suspected a thing.

 

Jakku was a test of which was stronger: FN-2187’s empathy or Hux’s command. Hux’s next move would depend on which won out.

 

Hux could only hope that the young soldier could one day forgive him for the horrors he was about to be exposed to.

 

* * *

 

 

FN-2187 was having a emotional breakdown, enough to break protocol and garner Phasma’s attention.

 

Good.

 

The First Order had successfully captured the Resistance pilot Poe Dameron.

 

Not so good.

 

It was a matter of time now. If Hux didn’t act soon, the location of the map would be compromised, and FN-2187 would be sent to serious reconditioning, if not disposed of. But one did not rise to the rank of General without being able to think on his feet. He could use this situation to his advantage, and the advantage of the Resistance.

 

He just needed to pull the trigger on FN-2187.

 

And the situation presented itself as Hux made his way through the halls of the Finalizer on the way to the bridge. The shaken soldier was walking towards him, no doubt hoping he could avoid Hux’s attention. The general couldn’t allow that.

 

The collision of shoulders appeared accidental enough, and it jarred the soldier into  dropping his side arm.

 

“My apologies, General!” FN-2187 sputtered, dropping to pick up his weapon, and Hux could sense the fraying control on the soldier’s facade.

 

It was time then, for the next move. Hux twisted his features into a scowl as he looked down at the kneeling soldier, appearing to any passerby like any disgusted commanding officer would be with clumsy Stormtrooper.

 

“ _Stop pretending.”_ He intoned, keeping his voice low so as to not be overheard.

 

“Sir?” FN-2187 looked up, confusion lacing his voice. His mind was getting stronger if he wasn’t as pliable as he used to be.

 

“What you are wanting to do, you’ll need a pilot.” Hux stated calmly, before pressing more forcefully with his command, “ _Stop pretending.”_

 

Once he saw the way FN-2187’s body relaxed at the command, Hux continued on his way, confident that the work had been done.

 

Or rather, _undone_. All those years of telling FN-2187 to pretend to be a model of the First Order’s ideals, to pretend to not feel the emotions he felt, to pretend that he didn’t doubt...all torn down by two words.

 

Hux did not like it when he was not in complete control, but in this case, there was simply nothing for it. He would have to watch FN-2187 to see what he would do now that he was free of his restraints on his moral compass.

 

* * *

 

Stealing a TIE Fighter in one of the most conspicuous escapes in First Order history was not exactly what Hux had expected. Perhaps he should have allowed FN-2187 time in combat so that he would know how to disengage the TIE Fighter’s tether. And watching the escape craft being shot down over Jakku nearly made the General’s heart stop. Only meditation after the fact, and sensing the Stormtrooper’s Force presence, allowed Hux to relax in the knowledge that the soldier was still alive.

 

But FN-2187’s path was no longer in Hux’s hands, but the Force’s. He had learned in his years of training to trust the Force, and in this case, he had to trust that FN-2187 would be delivered into the Resistance’s hands, and hopefully into the hands of his Master. The ex-Stormtrooper would make a good padawan, and his Master needed a pupil to guide to the Light, if only to regain his confidence as a teacher and master.

 

And so Hux turned his attention away from FN-2187, and to the more important task before him.

 

Kylo Ren.

 

Or rather, Ben Solo.

 

When Hux had first volunteered for General Organa’s mission, he had been nervous for when he would first come across Ben, fearing that he would be recognized by his former peer. But when Hux finally came face to mask with Ben, fully enshrouded in the identity of Kylo Ren, the Knight showed no signs of recognition. Like everyone else, Kylo Ren believed he was Brendol Hux the second, and not a Jedi padawan. While Hux was mainly relieved at not being detected, he couldn’t help but be slightly...disappointed in Ben for not recognizing him.

 

Then again, Kylo Ren was under the assumption that he had killed Hux during the massacre fifteen years ago.

 

But Hux had long since allowed his grief and rage to run their course before he released them to the Force. Holding grudges would do nothing to aid the Resistance’s mission for peace. Instead, Hux’s pain had turned instead to focus on the turmoil within Kylo Ren and, more importantly, the redemption of Ben Solo.

 

Up until a few years previously, Hux didn’t believe Ben _could_ be saved. Sensing the first quivers of doubt within Ren had been a surprise to Hux, and so he began to plan out the second part of his plan. FN-2187 would be a great asset to the Resistance, but if there was to be a chance at victory, they needed Ben Solo back. _He_ needed Ben Solo back.

 

One of the benefits of being General of the First Order meant that he had access to all the files the First Order had. Including the layout of the Finalizer. As such, locating Kylo Ren’s chamber’s had been simple. It had been finding access to that room without raising suspicion that proved to be more difficult. Ren was a paranoid bastard, and he would know if anyone entered his chambers without his consent. But that didn’t mean that he paid as much mind to the electrical room that shared a wall with his chambers.

 

Hux began to make a habit to visit that electrical room, especially when he knew Ren would be in meditation. And after the news of FN-2187’s escape with Poe Dameron, Hux knew that Ren would be a emotional supernova, in desperate need of focus.

 

And so Hux made sure that his tasks were delegated to enough people to ensure his presence would not be missed, and he snuck away to that forgotten electrical room. There was a space between two panels of wires where Hux prefered to sit, his back pressed against the shared wall with Ren’s chambers. All he had to do was wait.

 

It didn’t take long before he felt the surging power of torment, rage, and frustration. Ben had always worn his heart on his sleeve when they were younger, and that trait had only been exacerbated under Snoke’s tutelage (though to what aim, Hux did not know yet). It was all he could do to center himself and not be caught in Ren’’s emotions, finding peace through the Force while Ren struggled in the Dark.

 

And then, Hux would faintly sense, more than he could hear, Ren communing with the Force.

 

_Forgive me. I feel it again… the call from light._

 

Hux let out a slow breath, taking in the conflicted words.

 

_Supreme Leader senses it. Show me again, the power of the darkness, and I’ll let nothing stand in our way. Show me, grandfather, and I will finish what you started._

 

Hux could remember the days in which Ben had been fascinated with the stories of Anakin Skywalker, he just hadn’t realized how desperately Ren clung to the stories of Darth Vader to keep him anchored in the darkness.

 

But he couldn’t allow it to continue.

 

With another calming breath, Hux allowed himself to sink into meditation, allowing his presence to drift through the Force and touch Ren’s. He brought forth all of the memories he could of their past: the happy days they had spent a children under Master Skywalker’s tutelage, Ben’s parents and how they loved him, his uncle and how proud he was of his nephew and padawan. And, though Hux barely trusted himself to relive the memories, he decided to push forth the memories of just the two of them, and the time they had shared before--

 

Hux’s breath caught as Kylo Ren lashed out at the memories of the Light, and Hux could feel himself pulled into a very different memory.

 

_Screams filled the air, high and shrill as the distressed sounds of children were violently being silenced. Several of the older padawans were already lying dead in the mud, their flesh burning with the already cauterized wounds of Ben’s lightsaber. And Ben showed no hesitation in turning his attention to the cowering younglings._

 

_He couldn’t let this happen, “Ben!” His voice was little more than a raw scream as he threw himself between the younglings and his...opponent._

 

_“Stand aside, Braeda.” Ben’s voice was so cold, and his face looked so wrong without his smile._

 

_He shook his head, “I can’t do that, Ben.” He could practically feel his heart breaking as he ignited his lightsaber, the green glow in stark contrast to the red of Ben’s new weapon._

 

_“Don’t make me kill you, Braeda.”_

 

_“Well you’re going to have to, because I won’t let you do this.” And with that, green met red in a clash of light and sound._

 

_Even before the duel began, he knew he was no match against Ben. Ben had always been talented with a lightsaber, and with the power of the Dark Side at his side, a lone padawan stood no chance. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, especially when there were lives at stake._

 

_It was agony, when Ben’s red lightsaber sliced through the flesh and bone of his arm, leaving nothing but empty space and forcing him to his knees as he instinctively clutched the charred wound. His lightsaber fell to the mud harmlessly by his side._

 

_“This is your last warning, Braeda.” Ben’s voice brokered no mercy, though Braeda had already known mercy was no longer a principle of Ben’s, as he had slaughtered those who had been his friends._

 

_The pain in his arm was torture, but the knowledge that Ben fully intended to kill him, after...after everything they had been through...that was a fate worse than death. With a few shuddering breaths, Braeda forced himself to his feet, clutching his lightsaber in his weaker hand awkwardly._

 

_“You intend to fight me with one arm, when you couldn’t even best me with two?”_

 

_“I told you, Ben.” Braeda let out a huff, steeling himself against his inevitable death, “You’re going to have to kill me first.”_

 

_“Very well.”_

 

Hux pulled himself from the memory before it could continue, gasping for breath while trying to keep himself from being detected. His right arm twitched involuntarily, and he could almost pretend he could hear the mechanisms under his fake skin whirring to life. He had tried so hard to forget that day, to forget what Ben had done…

 

Ren had never reacted so violently to Hux’s gentle reminders of the Light before. He had shown resistance in the past, but his resolve had been weakening, and he had begun to linger on the memories of the past.

 

But this was the first time he had included himself in those memories… could Ren truly have reacted so terribly to him? With a heart already beginning to crack, Hux forced himself to focus on Ren once more.

 

There was so much pain in Ren’s heart, Hux could feel that much, but he was still beseeching the spirit of his grandfather it seemed.

 

_Why would you show me this, grandfather? Why would you show me the price I have paid? Why would you show me...why would you show me him? I...I don’t understand, and I’m being torn apart. Please, let me forsake the light!_

 

A sad smile tugged at tugged at the corner of Hux’s mouth, “Oh Ben…” He whispered, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that…”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, can I just say, holy crap guys! I never expected this little fic idea of mine to get such a positive response! I'm so glad you like it, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
> 
> Whoo, this chapter took much longer than I thought it would, and I'm not sure if I'm wholly satisfied with it. So far, most of these scenes are slight tweaks of the events in the movie. Don't worry, there will be more action and canon-divergence in the next chapter.
> 
> Also, I realize I made a mistake of naming Poe a Captain, when I've learned he was a Commander. That should be fixed now.
> 
> Another thing, has anyone else noticed that back when the movie first came out, Hux was listed as two years younger than Ben, but now he's four years older? Weird...

_“Do you ever think that the Old Jedi Order was wrong about their belief on attachments?”_

 

_The words were sudden, jarring Braeda from the calming peace of his meditation. Blue eyes slowly opened from their restful close to stare into the soulful brown that greeted them._

 

_“I never took you to ask philosophical questions, Ben.” Braeda remarked, watching Ben as the other hugged his knees self consciously._

 

_Ben shrugged, as if to play down his question, “I guess I’m just...curious.”_

 

_“About what I think about the Old Jedi Order?” Braeda raised a curious eyebrow. There was a period of several moments in which Braeda watched Ben, as if he could discern the younger’s inner concerns through observation._

 

_“I just wanted to know...if you think they were right…” Ben shrugged again, his chin resting on his bony knees as he did his best to avoid Braeda’s gaze._

 

_Braeda smiled softly, the furrows of his brow smoothing, “I don’t.” He shook his head, “I mean, I can imagine the wisdom behind the belief, but I don’t believe the Order’s rules of no attachment were anything short of unhealthy.”_

 

_Ben frowned, “What do you mean?”_

 

_“Which part?”_

 

_“Both, I guess.”_

 

_Breada sighed, uncrossing his legs for a more relaxed position, “I suppose I can understand the reasoning behind warning against attachments. I believe it might have stemmed from the idea that relationships might cloud one’s mind and render them unable to make the right choice.”_

 

_“Like grandfather…”_

 

_“Is that what this is about?” Braeda frowned, concern etching his sun-beaten brow. “Ben, while it’s true your grandfather’s attachments made him susceptible for emotional manipulation, it was also his attachment to your uncle that helped him back to the Light, remember?”_

 

_Ben shrugged, not responding immediately._

 

_“What do you think about Jedi’s having attachments?”_

 

_A faint smile tugged at the corner of Braeda’s mouth, “Jedi, like all life, form attachments. Family, friends, even rivals and enemies. In every being we meet, we are connected with them in some way through the Force, and to deny that is to deny the Force.”_

 

_“But what about...romantic attachments?”_

 

_At once, the curiously amused expression on Braeda’s face melted away, “Ben…”_

 

_“I just…” Ben looked away, “I don’t want to end up…”_

 

_“Ben.”_

 

_As Ben met Braeda’s gaze, the older boy gently reached to cradle Ben’s face in his callused hands, “You will not become like him.”_

 

_“But what if I do?” Ben’s voice was laced with anguish, “What if I lose you and I go dark?”_

 

_“I won’t let you.” Braeda shook his head, “I won’t let that happen.”_

 

_“You don’t have that power.”_

 

_“Then I’ll find that power.” Braeda replied, as if the solution would truly be that simple. “No matter what happens to you, I will always come and save you.”_

 

_“But what if I--”_

 

 _“Ben, you will_ never _be Darth Vadar.”_

 

In the bowels of the Finalizer, black eyes erupted from their fitful rest, staring helplessly into the black of the room.

 

With shaky breaths, Kylo Ren sat up in his bed. The sheets, cool and damp from sweat, pooled around his naked waist as his chest heaved violently. And, once his breath had been well and fully caught, his hands fisted the soft fabric tightly in his fists.

 

Dreams. Why did he have to have those dreams?

 

Kylo Ren was no stranger to nightmares, no doubt he was the subject of many a nightmares to inhabitants across the galaxy. He had nightmares of his initiation into the Knights of Ren, of Snoke and his training...of that fateful night fifteen years previous….

 

But he hadn’t dreamed of...of Braeda... since before he first joined the Knights of Ren. He had tried so desperately to banish the redhead from his thoughts, tried to bury the tender emotion that the other had evoked. The Dark Side had no room for friendships, let alone...any other emotions that he had shared with the older teen.

 

And up until a handful of nights previously, he had been successful in banishing the weakness from his being.

 

But now…

 

With a sigh, Ren pulled himself up out of his bed, the movement triggering the illuminators of the room to fill the room with a dull light. It was no use trying to sleep now, no doubt his sleep would only be haunted with the days of the past. Days long since lost. With long, tired strides, he crossed the room until he reached the pedestal of his most prized possession.

 

“Grandfather,” The word was no more than a reverent whisper, but the weight behind that word was enough to drive Ren to his knees. “I don’t understand why I’m being tormented like this…”

 

He closed his eyes, desperately attempting to center himself, “I wish I understood why you showed me those visions...why you showed me Br-- him…

 

“Are you reminding me of the price of power? I paid that price, grandfather! I paid that price when I kil...killed him…”

 

_Kylo Ren had already slaughtered a great number of his former peers: older, younger, stronger, weaker; one by one they fell by his blade as he sliced and stabbed through them with ease. And regardless of his victims, he felt nothing of their pain and suffering._

 

_But as Kylo swung his lightsaber in a punishing blow that sent Braeda to his knees, his very being cried out. Hearing Braeda’s tortured scream as he fell to his knees caused agony to ripple through Kylo. Seeing his...friend kneeling in the mud, clutching his shoulder where his arm used to be, and pain twisting his face into a grotesque replica, caused horror to twist tightly through Kylo’s gut._

 

_But there was nothing for it, a voice reminded him. Power did not come without a price, after all. And with Braeda’s defeat, he could continue to purge the Light from his life._

 

_He didn’t expect Braeda to stand again. The pained expression hardened into one of determination. The screams of pain died down to straining groans as he clumsily made his way to his feet. The calluses fingers that used to touch Ben so gently now gripped his lightsaber with all the desperation of a dying man clinging to his lifeline._

 

_“You intend to fight me with one arm, when you couldn’t even best me with two?” Kylo couldn’t help but notice just how pathetic Braeda as he tried to maintain a strong grip on his weapon with only his weaker hand._

 

_If Braeda was aware of the futility of his supposed bravery, he didn’t show it, “I told you, Ben.” Braeda released a heavy huff of breath, “You’re going to have to kill me first.”_

 

_And for a moment, Kylo paused. Before him stood a wounded warrior, one of the only beings in the galaxy who had once been privy to the secrets of his being._

 

_Braeda’s faded red locks were plastered against his forehead by the rain, with rivulets of water traveling from his brow down his sharp cheekbones and over flushed lips from which huffed breaths escaped. The constellation of freckles that decorated Braeda’s skin like far off galaxies was now obscured by the ochre mud splattered against his body like war paint. And his once slate blue eyes now shone like Durindfire crystals as they stared defiantly into the face of death._

 

_He was beautiful. To kill him would be a waste of a brilliant mind and body. To kill him would destroy Ben._

 

_And there was no better sacrifice to lay at the altar of power._

 

_“Very well.”_

 

 _Kylo Ren did not get Braeda the chance to attack this time around, flinging the older teen with the Force across the burning temple like a youngling’s doll thrown in a tantrum. The sickening_ crack _that resounded as Braeda’s body hit the temple wall echoed in Kylo’s mind, though he put his thoughts at ease as the wall collapsed overtop of the motionless body, crushing it effectively._

 

_It was a shame that Braeda’s death could not come with the honor of a duel, but Kylo could not allow the other to disgrace himself with a pitiful attempt to fight with one arm. He owed his friend that much of a courtesy._

 

_But the moment of mourning was over, and Kylo had work to do._

 

“Grandfather…” Ren opened his eyes to stare at the misshapen visage of his grandfather, “Is this the pain you felt when you paid with grandmother’s life? Did you dream of her as well? Did she haunt your waking hours as well?

 

“Please…” He reached out, his fingers barely touching the deformed helmet, “teach me what this means…”

 

* * *

 

Red hair was not that common in the galaxy. If Ren remembered correctly, less than two percent of humans had some form of red hair. It had been a fact that had always made Braeda an oddity at the New Order temple. The older boy’s tousled red locks always made him stand out in a crowd, and they never failed to catch Ben’s eye when he was younger.

 

He didn’t meet another with red hair until he first met General Hux.

 

Hux, who was all orders and control, who dared to speak out against Ren, who did not flinch in the face of Ren’s rage

 

Hux, whose red hair was combed meticulously in place, without room for any rebellious strands. Not tousled and windswept.

 

Hux, whose face was as white as the surface as Hoth, without a blemish in sigh. Not peppered with freckles and burned slightly on the tips of his ears after a long day of training.

 

Hux, who attempted to use his coat and uniform as a way to appear larger than life to his troops. Not barefoot and shirtless as he ran through the days katas for the hundredth time.

 

Hux, whose body was hail and whole. Not partially dismembered and crushed under rubble.

 

Ren _hated_ Hux. For everything he was...and everything he wasn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

Ever since the inception of Starkiller Base, Hux had done his best to inform the General about the danger it would impose. Only a fool would ignore the destructive power behind the machine, and Hux was not about to be played for a fool.

 

It was only his position of power that had granted him an audience with Snoke when the Supreme leader first spoke of his plans of what was to come when Starkiller was complete.

 

_“We will destroy the Republic and the Hosnian System, with its destruction, we shall crush the Resistance.”_

 

And it was only the fact that Hux had trained extensively in maintaining a low Force profile (and that he was standing next to Kylo Ren), that Snoke failed to sense his dread.

 

An entire system, doomed to die. And there was very little he could do about it.

 

Except inform the General.

 

* * *

 

 

_Starkiller estimated completion: 1 standard year. Target: Hosnian system. Evac who you can._

 

When Leia first received that ominous message all those months ago, she had emptied her stomach the moment she had the privacy to. When Braeda first sent word of Starkiller, she had assumed that it would be, at worst, a replica of the Deathstar.

 

How wrong she had been. The Deathstar had never been able to destroy more than Alderaan in its day. And Starkiller would destroy an entire system, and with it, the Republic.

 

She had been given one standard year to evacuate an entire system without raising suspicion. It was an impossible task.

 

But they had to try.

 

It was one month before the deadline, and the Senate had ignored Leia’s numerous warnings of the system’s impending doom. Warmonger, they called her, as if she _wanted_ war, and the deaths of billions. The nerve and arrogance of them all.

 

One month left, and Leia was not about to give up on the Republic. She only hoped that Korr Sella would have better luck in convincing the Senate of the imminent danger than she had.

 

She should have known something was terribly wrong when the commotion of the base turned more frantic in nature. While she knew the Resistance was never quiet, she was more than aware of the differences between controlled chaos and unrepentant pandemonium.

 

“It’s gone!”

 

“What could possibly destroy and entire system?”

 

“Those bastards!”

 

The words barely reached Leia’s ears before she realized what was happening. Seeing the streaks of red burning across the sky only made reality all the more blood-curdling.

 

Hosnian was gone. Korr was gone. The Senate. The Republic….

 

No. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have more time!

 

In all of her years spent in war, if there had been one ugly truth she had been forced to accept, it was that not every soul could be saved. It was a simple impossibility at times, and she had learned to accept it as a realist, unlike her idealist brother. But that didn’t mean that she did not feel the loss of each life in war, though whether through the Force or empathy, she did not know.

 

As it was, there wasn’t a soul to hear Leia’s distraught cries, and even if there had been, none would have truly understood the anguish Leia faced in knowing of the attack, but being powerless to stop it. It shouldn’t have been impossible to save them...they should have been able to save them...

 

“We had another month…” The words were pointless pleas, as if she could implore the Force to undo the carnage. In a fit of fury, Leia flung the contents of her desk across the room in a spectacular flurry of rage, “We were supposed to have another month!”

 

* * *

 

 

They were supposed to have another month. Snoke had other plans.

 

_“Starkiller is ahead of schedule, I am ready to see this weapon tested now, lest those Republic fools attempt to stop us.”_

 

Hux should have found a way to delay the test, or sabotage the machine so that they could not fire. He should have found a way to warn the General. He should have….

 

He should have…

 

But he stood there. He stood before an army of kidnapped troops and spewed the poison of the First Order, filling their minds with the evil of tyranny and the Dark Side.

 

And he watched. He watched as planets were destroyed, a system obliterated, and the force for liberty in the galaxy was crumbled to specs of rubble.

 

And he _felt._ Oh, how he felt the each of the billions of lives cried out in sheer terror and desperation, piercing him like the burning blade of a lightsaber, his very soul torn apart by the shrapnel of their pain suffering, and the bone-chilling silence as their lives were, at once, silenced.

 

It had taken every iota of Hux’s control of the Force to keep himself standing in front of the troops during the massacre, to force his muscles and joints to seize so that he would not fall to his knees, to keep his eyes unblinking lest he began to weep, to keep his body from completely collapsing in front of the entire Starkiller base and weeping for those lost to the Hosnian system.

 

He hadn’t felt this anguish since Ben’s betrayal.

 

And he had no one to blame but himself.

 

_Focus!_

 

With a start, Hux registered the word spoken through his mind, and pulled himself from the fog of self-loathing and grief. How had he made it back to his rooms? Had he truly walked all the way to his room without any sense of awareness? What else had he done while he was unaware?

 

_Braeda!_

 

With a shuddery gasp, Hux steeled himself enough to gather his wits and focus on the voice speaking to him. _Master?_

 

A solid presence shifted over him, a familiar, comforting presence, _Braeda, what have you done?_

 

_Master...I tried to stop it...I warned General Organa, but Snoke...he moved the date of the test forward. I could feel them dying, Master…_

 

 _I felt them too, Braeda. And I felt your suffering from across the galaxy. You_ must _control yourself, before I’m not the only one who can feel your presence! At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised  if Snoke himself knew of your presence!_

 

His master was right, Hux knew that. He put his entire role as a spy in danger because of his emotions. He couldn’t fall apart, not now, not when things were reaching their boiling point. He couldn’t...he couldn’t…

 

 _Help me, Master._ He pleaded, _Help me let go of my grief...like when Ben first left…_

 

_I can only help you for a short while, Braeda._

 

_That’s all I need, Master._

 

* * *

 

 

Hux wasn’t sure how long he spent in meditation, sorting out his agony and sorrow to release them to the Force. He had to, for the good of the lives he could still yet save. He swore, then and there, that role or no role, he could not allow Starkiller to strike again.

 

When Hux opened his eyes once more, he knew what he had to do. He was simply ashamed of himself for not doing it before.

 

It wasn’t until Hux sat at his desk, accessing the file of Starkiller, that he remembered the risk he was taking. Starkiller had been tasked to him: the designs, the oversight, the crew… the blood of its victims was solely on his hands, and no doubt he’d never be able to wash the red from his ledger.

There was only one person who had access to the entire layout plans of Starkiller. If anyone intercepted the file containing those plans, including the highlighted data of its structural weakness, there would be no questioning who had sent the file.

 

If the file was detected before it was received by General Organa, it would mean his death.

 

Not that it mattered now. His life was nothing compared to those he had lost. As the file finished loading, he quickly typed out a message for the General.

 

_Forgive me._

_Use this to stop FO from ever using SK again._

_FN-2187 will know how to get past the shields._

 

* * *

 

 

Hux hated going before Snoke, it was the biggest danger of his role, the danger made all the more real with Hux’s barely controlled emotions to keep in check.

 

His only safety in standing before Snoke was Kylo Ren. With Ren an emotional maelstrom and a flaring Force presence, it was easy to hide behind him. And no doubt with the failure to retrieve the droid with the map to Master Skywalker (a stroke of luck), neither Ren nor Snoke would be in a pleasant mood.

 

“She has the Force!” Ren shouted, his hair in disarray and his face flushed. Clearly something had upset him about the girl he had taken prisoner. Odd…

 

A girl with the Force? That shouldn’t be enough to cause Ren so much distress. It wasn’t like the Force was a rare occurrence in living beings, nor should it be a challenge for someone as trained as he was...

 

But he could worry about that later, he had a Supreme Leader to fool.

 

“He said we wouldn’t need the droid, once we had the girl.” He drawled as he approached the Supreme Leader’s throne, the barbed comment striking out at Ren’s ego, causing the Knight’s emotions to flare once more.

 

“I can get the map from her!” Ren sneered, teeth grit tightly in determination.

 

And no doubt he could. Hux did not doubt Ben’s determination as a child, and that determination had twisted into a malevolent relentlessness. He feared for the poor girl who was on the other end of Kylo Ren’s rage.

 

On the other hand...if the girl knew about the map…

 

Hux groaned. Was it really so hard for the Resistance to keep track of their people?

 

* * *

 

It was easy, locating the holding cell where Ren’s prisoner was held. Having full access  of Starkiller made sure of that.

 

Finding a way to help her escape...well, that would take a great deal more planning. It wasn’t like he had another FN-2187 running around. Would have made things easier if he had.

 

There were two Stormtroopers standing guard outside the cell, snapping to attention as Hux made his approach toward the cell with nary a sound from either of them.

 

“At ease.” He muttered, barely paying any mind to formalities. If things played out the way he believed they would, neither guard would remember the conversation.

 

Even after all his years of training under Master Skywalker, and continuing his private training of the ways of the Force, there were still instances where Hux was amazed at how easily he could search the minds and beings of others. People were so open to the Force, and they weren’t even aware of it.

 

He could sense the loyalty from the troops, their utter dedication to their job. And he could feel the unadultuerated hatred radiating off of one of the troops, and a fanatical devotion to the cause of the First Order.

 

Hux flicked his eyes down to the designation number on the guard. FN-2000. Ah, one of Phasma’s pet projects. That explained it. Well he certainly couldn’t stay.

 

“FN-2000, the Captain is looking for you.” Hux replied crisply, “She wishes to speak to you about the FN corps in her office. I suggest you do not keep her waiting.”

 

FN-2000 didn’t even hesitate in following his orders, nor did Hux have to resort to using a Force suggestion. He was simply that loyal to his superiors. Brainwashing at its finest.

 

The other guard was not so...dedicated. He was a good soldier, of course, dedication and good work ethic rolled off of him. But Hux could also feel a steady wave of...was that admiration? For... him? Oh...well…Hux glanced at the designation number. JB-007.

 

He could stay.

 

“Don’t let anyone disturb me while I question the prisoner.” He stated, softly, as if he needed to endear himself to the soldier.

 

“Of course, sir.” The soldier nodded firmly, returning to attention.

 

It was almost too easy. Though as it was, Hux couldn’t let himself be too concerned with the goings on of the soldiers, he had a prisoner to question and, hopefully, free.

But as the door to the cell opened, and Hux caught a glimpse of the sweat-mussed brunette tresses, and felt the familiars tendrils of the Force, he could have sworn he felt his heart stopped.

 

No…it couldn’t be…

 

_“Dun wanna sleep…” The child fussed, cheeks flushed with fever and attempting to crawl from her bed._

 

_Braeda smiled softly, dipping a small cloth in a bowl of cool water before kneeling by her bedside, “You’ll need to sleep if you want to get better. And the sooner you get better, the sooner you can continue to train with Master Skywalker.” Slowly, he dabbed the cloth against her forehead._

 

_Dark eyes looked up at him tiredly, her thin lips pulled into a tight pout. “Dun wanna…”_

 

_The teen resisted the urge to snort. No doubt she didn’t even know what she was resisting, she was simply doing it because she didn’t like being told what to do._

 

_“How about this?” Braeda began, tucking the tiny body into her bed, “If you’re feeling better in the morning, we can show Master Skywalker that kata I showed you. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”_

 

_“Yes, Brae.” A tired head bobbed slightly in nod, brown locks falling in her eyes._

 

_“Let’s get your hair out of your face, hm?” Braeda hummed, taking the thin tresses and pulling them back. He had plenty of practice tending to the younglings and unruly hair (Ben hadn’t the patience, nor the steady hand). One bun was never enough to keep her hair from falling in her face, so Braeda often used multiple, regardless of how the girls claimed it looked “silly”_

 

_“Too many…” Came a pathetic whine._

 

_“Four’s too many?” Braeda chuckled, “How about three, does that sound better?”_

 

_A nod._

 

_“Alright then…”_

 

_It was the sounds of screams that pulled Braeda from his domestic scene. Screams and the low hum of lightsabers. And while, logically, Braeda knew what the cause must have been, he couldn’t stop himself from going to the window of the dormitory to confirm his sucpicions._

 

_If ever there was a sight that could freeze Braeda’s blood, it was the Knights of Ren standing outside the temple, slashing their way through the padawans as the sun began to set. And if there was a sight that could make Braeda’s heart shatter into a million pieces, it was seeing Ben among their ranks, wielding a red lightsaber._

 

_“No…” The plea left Braeda’s lips before he could register the thought. He couldn’t let him do this, he couldn’t--_

 

_“Brae?”_

 

_The older padawan turned his attention back to the youngling laying in her bed, helpless and weak from fever. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that the Knights would show mercy simply because she was a child, he knew what would happen if they found her…_

 

_“We’re going to play a game, Rey.” He began, racing to the bed and picking up the tiny frame easily, “You remember when we play hide and seek?”_

 

_Rey responded with a tiny nod. Braeda quickly knelt by Rey’s bed, sliding her body as far under it as he could, “You remember how you need to hide your presence with the Force?”_

 

_“I ‘member…”_

 

_“Alright, Rey. We’re playing hide and seek. You’re the hider, alright?” Braeda gulped, trying to appear calm, “You can’t let anyone find you….don’t move until I come find you…”_

 

_“Ok, Brae.”_

 

_“Promise me you won’t move.”_

 

_“I promise…”_

 

_Braeda took one last look at the tiny child, and he desperately hoped he could return to find her safe. And he hoped that she would not be the only one. But before he could succumb to his fears and hide along with her, he rushed to where he left his lightsaber, and dashed out of the room._

 

_“Ben!”_

 

Hux quickly recovered from his haunting memories, taking in the sight of the young woman whom the Force had delivered into his hands.

 

“Hello Rey.”

 

Judging by the way Rey flinched at the sound of his voice and the mention of her name, she didn’t recognize him any more than Ben had. “How do you know my name?” She bit out, steeling herself for strength she didn’t actually have.

 

“I know quite a bit about you already, Rey.” Hux continued, stepping towards her with slow, controlled steps, barely trusting himself to be near the former youngling, “In fact, I know quite a bit about you that you may not know about yourself.”

 

“What does that even mean?” Her voice betrayed the fear that quivered around her, though her eyes still held a stronghold of courage.

 

Hux shook his head, “It matters not. What does matter, however, is that you know where Skywalker is.” He stood by her side, taking in her appearance. She hadn’t been taken care of, despite what he had been assured: she was thin from malnourishment, and he could see the telltale signs of body weary from scavenging. He’d have to send her to Master Skywalker so she could be taken care of this time around…

 

“I’m not telling you anything about the map!” Rey hissed, her fists clenched tightly in determination, “I didn’t tell Kylo Ren, and I certainly won’t tell _you.”_

 

“I know.” Despite his disappointments in Rey’s physical well being, Hux couldn’t help but be impressed by the natural control she had over the Force. Already, she was building a mental shield around herself, as if she anticipated another attack like the one Ren had no doubt waged against her. He only wished her skills had been honed by Master Skywalker, and not by the unforgiving teacher that was survival. “But I don’t need you to tell me about the map. I already know about the map.”

 

“No!” Her eyes widened, wisps of dread escaping her shield, “You’re lying!”

 

“Look me in the eye, Rey.” Hux murmured, bringing himself to her level, “Search me, and tell me if I am lying.”

 

Her eyes fixed upon him, and he could feel her searching him. She probably didn’t realize she was doing it, but she was searching for the tell tale hints of deception that would not be present in him. She had always been a natural when it came to the Force, much like he had been when he was her age, and he mourned the fact she had been denied a proper teacher.

 

“Am I lying?”

 

Rey didn’t answer, but the way she looked away from him told him that she had her answer.

 

“I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen, Rey.” Hux lowered his voice, allowing the tender affection he had abandoned so long ago to return, “In a few minutes, Kylo Ren will return to interrogate you again. You resisted him previously, but you’re still untrained in the ways of the Force, and he is the Master of the Knights of Ren. He will destroy you eventually, or he will simply kill you out of frustration.

 

“So you’ll need to escape before he comes to you. You’re going to escape, and you’re going to go find Master Skywalker and become a Jedi.”

 

Rey couldn’t hide her confusion as she stared at him incredulously. “How?”

 

Hux did something he hadn’t done in years: he laughed. It was only a small chortle, but such a simple gesture felt like a balm to his weary being, “Oh Rey...I wish I had more time to teach you…” He shook his head, “But I don’t have much time before I’m missed. I’ll have to leave you with simply this: the Force has a powerful influence over the weak-minded.”

 

She stared at him for several moments, as if she could unravel his personal from sight alone. She wouldn’t, but Hux couldn’t help but be amused at the effort, “Who are you? Why are you helping me?”

 

“I’m helping you because it’s what I’ve done since you were a little girl. And because the Resistance will need you.” Hux nodded, standing straight once more and making his way to the door, “As for my name…” He paused, pondering if he should tell the young woman, “...Should anyone ask, simply give them the name Braeda...and when you see General Organa, give her my love.”

 

He opened the door, revealing JB-007 in the exact same position in which Hux had left him.

 

“Come in soldier.” He ordered, and the Stormtrooper did not hesitate to follow his command to stand inside the doorway.

 

“You’re to watch her,” He stated, then his hand moved across the soldier’s line of sight as he layered his voice with the influence of the Force, “You are not to harm her.”

 

“I...am not to harm her.”

 

Hux looked back at Rey, who was doing her best to look over her shoulder to watch him.

 

“Remember what I told you.” He said simply before leaving the cell to return to his position on the bridge. It was up to Rey now, and if her survival instincts would guide her true with the use of the Force.

 

* * *

 

 

“The girl has escaped!”

 

“Find her! Every unit on lockdown!”

 

“Resistance X-Wings have appeared on radar!”

 

“Shields are down!”

 

As the chaos of frantic shouts from various officers and beeping alarms flooded the bridge, Hux stood motionless as he looked out the window, watching the scene unfold.

  
It had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I ended right before the cool part happens, I'm sorry! I could not find a good place to end this chapter, and I didn't want to end in the middle of the action.
> 
> I'm not completely satisfied with the Hosnian scene in that I didn't cover it in a whole lot of detail. But honestly, the scene in the movie was so powerful, I don't know what I could have added to make it more gut-wrenching.
> 
> I also apologize for the lack of Stormpilot so far. I promise they will be there, as well as some more romantic Kylux (or rather Ben/Braeda--Benda? Breaden? I don't even know what their relationship would be called).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everyone! I apologize for not posting last weekend, but I had a different plot bunny in my head that demanded my attention. So if you like the "Defecting Stormtrooper" trope, and you want to see a fic with more JB-007 being a badass (not to mention several other cross-fandom characters as Stormtroopers), check out my fic "Garbage Squad." 
> 
> As for this chapter...I don't know, I'm really not that satisfied with it. Maybe it's because the past two chapters have had plenty of time for introspection, but this chapter is all "go-go-go" but I don't feel it's up to the standards I usually have for myself. But I'll let you be the judge.
> 
> Oh, and thank you to the anon on tumblr for the idea for the end of this chapter. I'm sure lots of people will hate you, but I love you.

_It must have days since Rey had been hiding under that bed. Or at least several hours. All was quiet in the temple, and the only noise she could hear was the rain as it pelted the temple wall. Her legs had begun to fall asleep, tingling when Rey tried to so much as twitch them, and the ground was growing more and more uncomfortable._

 

_But Braeda said not to come out. So she stayed put, even if she really needed to use the ‘fresher._

 

_Then, a noise, a scuffling, scraping noise. Like when she and the other younglings would throw rocks down the cliffside…_

 

_A thud. Scraping, thud. Thud, scrape, thud, scrape. Wheeze. Thud, scrape, wheeze…._

 

_It was getting louder. Louder and closer._

 

_Thud, scrape. Thud, thud, scrape. Wheeze. Wheeze. Thud, scrape._

 

_She could hear it in the room now. The wheezing was louder, accompanied by the intermediate dripping plips like raindrops._

 

_Thud, wheeze, plip plip plip, scrape._

 

_Wheeze, thud, thud…_

 

_Boom!_

 

_Rey barely restrained a startled squeak as the booming noise echoed from the floor next to her tiny cot, squeezing her eyes shut as the noises dissolving into nothingness and silence reigning once more._

 

_Then, a croak._

 

_“Rey…”_

 

_A dark eye cautiously opened to peer through the blankets that were hanging off the side of the cot. She knew someone was laying next to her on the floor, but it wasn’t until she saw the familiar red locks that she recognized her hiding partner._

 

_“Brae…”_

 

_Brae was hurt, she knew that. He was covered in scratches and bruises like the time Ben had accidently fallen down the cliffs during training. And blood was dripping from his lip like the time she had eaten too quickly and bit her lip on accident._

 

_And Brae had been crying. His eyes were all red and wet. And it scared Rey. Brae didn’t cry. He was always the one to wipe the tears away from the eyes of the younglings after tough days of training, or when someone skinned their knees...Brae didn’t cry._

 

_Despite his wounds, Brae smiled at Rey, “You’re alright...”_

 

_Rey nodded quickly, “I hid…”_

 

_“You did…” Brae reached out slowly, extending his hand to hold Rey’s. HIs fingers were odd colors, and one was bending odd, but they still wrapped around Rey’s tiny hand, though not as tightly as Rey was used to. “You did so well...I’m so proud of you…”_

 

_Rey slowly slid herself from under her bed, still holding Brae’s hand in her own as she pressed herself to the older boy’s side. “Hurt…”_

 

_The boy pressed Rey to his side, where she buried her face into his chest, “I’ll be alright, Rey.” Brae sighed, the sound cut off with a wet and ragged cough. He must be getting sick as well… “I’m just glad you’re safe…”_

 

_“Bad guys gone?”_

 

_“...yeah...the bad guys are gone…” Brae coughed again, “Everything’s alright…”_

 

_Rey wrapped her free arm around Brae’s chest and shoulder, hand brushing against scorched skin. Brae let go of Rey’s hand to gently rub her back, humming softly to her, only pausing on occasion to let loose a wet cough._

 

_And as Rey’s eyes drifted shut, she could vaguely hear Master Skywalker’s voice in the distance._

 

Rey wasn’t sure if she should be celebrating her discovery of the Force, or fearing it. There was so much she didn’t understand, so much that didn’t make sense to her. First the lightsaber, then the interrogation with Kylo Ren and discovering her ability to protect her mind (not to mention search other’s).

 

Then there was the mysterious Braeda. A First Order officer who knew who she was...and General Organa...who wanted to help her...who knew the Force.

 

She had been shocked to find that escaping her cell had been as simple as Braeda had modeled for her, but she hadn’t allowed herself the chance to ponder on it too long, as she was thrumming with adrenaline as she raced through the halls of Starkiller, desperate to avoid capture.

 

Seeing Finn and Han and Chewbacca again had been a welcome surprise.

 

“You’re alright!” Finn shouted, pulling Rey into a tight hug. And Rey, despite everything in the situation, let him. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had embraced her so tightly, and Finn’s presence was so...comforting.

 

“I thought you left…” She murmured.

 

“I changed my mind.” He smiled, “I couldn’t just leave you!”

 

He could have. He really could have. But that makes the fact he did come back all the more touching to Rey.

 

“Alright kids, I know this is a very touching moment.” Han interrupted, trying to look agitated but failing, “But we have explosives to place.”

 

Rey frowned. “Explosives?”

 

Finn nodded, “We’re trying to weaken the oscillator so the Resistance can destroy Starkiller.” he lifted up a bag where, Rey assumed, said explosives were located, “We need to get these thermal detonators planted so Poe can fire on the oscillator.”

 

Though Rey found herself following Finn and Han deep into Starkiller base, a small part of her was reluctant to destroy Starkiller. Not for any qualms of killing those of the First Order, they had made their intentions known with Hosnian Prime. Nor was it for fear of being caught in the destruction, there were worse ways to go than for the good of the Galaxy.

 

She just wish she could have had her curiosity satisfied with the enigma that was Braeda.

 

* * *

 

 

His father was here, he knew that much.

 

When the alarm had been raised for a ship getting past Starkiller’s shield, Kylo Ren could only think of one ship capable of such a maneuver...and only one pilot foolhardy enough to attempt such a suicide run.

 

And even if he hadn’t been alerted by the alarm, the Knight could sense his father’s presence: flashing and flighty as always.

 

After so long of feeling nothing but his absence…

 

As Kylo Ren moved deeper into the bowels of Starkiller’s core, he could feel a surge of rage bubbling within him. It was time, he would kill  his fa--Han Solo, and embrace the darkness once and for all…

 

_You will never be Darth Vader!_

 

The memory of the scavenger girl caused Kylo to pause in his steps. How dare she judge him and find his power wanting? For all her natural talent, she was but a novice to the Force; she did not understand the ways of the Force or the power of the Darkside. The sight of her arrogant face snarling at him as she dared defy him only served to fuel Kylo’s rage, strengthening his resolve.

 

 _Ben, you will_ never _be Darth Vader._

 

The scavenger’s snarling face melted away to reveal a more peaceful visage: of Braeda’s soft slate eyes staring into the depths of Ben--Kylo’s soul, of  those callused but gentle hands that cradled his face with such tender intimacy, of those chapped but soft lips that pulled into a  peaceful reassuring smile.

 

How many times had Braeda’s soothed Ben’s troubled soul with those gentle words? How many times had his companion known the secret torment deep within Ben and pulled him away to their secret place to banish those doubts?

 

 _Ben…_ Pale arms wrapping around his frame as two exhausted padawans relaxed after strenuous trainings…

 

 _Ben…_ Chapped lips brushing against his own in stolen moments  away from the other padawans…

 

 _Ben…_ Whispered confessions in the dark of the night, and unspoken  vows of fidelity to one another...

 

 _Ben!_ Slate eyes brightening to Durindfire as he faced Ben as an enemy, lightsaber illuminating not only his face but his very being.

 

 _Ben…_ The desperate voice of a dying man, making one last plea to reach the Light within Ben.

 

“Ben!”

 

The sound of Hal Solo’s voice calling his name startled Kylo Ren more than it should have, and he cursed himself for his incompetence. But now that his father is so close, it will be easy to finish his final task…

 

“Take off the mask and face me.” Solo sounds so utterly weak Kylo would have found it humorus if it wasn’t so pathetic...

 

“What are you hoping to see?” Kylo found himself asking, though he knew he should even be playing into the games that the Light was so fond of.

 

“The face of my son.”

 

Why wouldn’t he accept the fact that his son was dead? Ben Solo was gone! What would it take to prove it to the old man? With a  frustrated sigh, Kylo reached up to his  helmet and removed it. Perhaps now that he could see that Kylo Ren was nothing like the son he imagined. As Kylo turned to face Solo, he hoped the sight of him, fully stained with the darkness. He was not Ben Solo...

 

Though if Solo was horrified with his metamorphosis, he did not show it. If anything, it goaded the fool smuggler to step closer, following Kylo onto the bridge.

 

“Ben…” He began, ignoring Kylo’s snarl at the name, “Ben...come home…”  He reached out his hand toward him, as if it were just the two of them in the entire galaxy, “We miss you.”

 

“You miss a boy long dead.”

 

A hurt look crossed the smuggler’s face, “I miss my son, boy or man!” he insisted.

 

Kylo frowned, his hand tightening around his lightsaber, “I will not be swayed by your pandering lies.”

 

“Would I--”

 

“Don’t insult my intelligence, you and I both know you would and you have.” Kylo could remember all the lies he could remember his father spewing, either to avoid his mother’s wrath or to get out of paying debts more than owed. Lying was his father’s second language.

 

Solo started at him intently, moving closer still, “Then search me, Ben. You were always able to catch me in a lie. You tell me: am I lying to try and save my hide?”

 

And so Kylo searched him, pried into every fiber of his spineless being for the pandering lies spun to save his wretched existence. Another lie, and another reason to end his miserable life and embrace the darkness

 

But it wasn’t there. And in that moment, as Kylo stood on that bridge , staring into his father’s eyes, he realized that he was witnessing perhaps one of the only honest moments of  his father’s life.

 

No...no, he wasn’t supposed to be telling the truth. He was supposed to be lying, and Kylo would just be eliminating another pathetic being from existence...it had to be a trick of the Light...it had to…he must banish it if he wished to embraced the darkness….

 

_Why?_

 

It was a familiar voice from Kylo’s memories, and though it was faint, the question already planted the seeds of doubt within him. What was there in the darkness? Why did he  cling so desperately to the dark?

 

He was horrified to find he could not find the answer within himself. He could not remember why he had treasured the darkness, nor why he had runned to it in the first place…

 

Why?

 

His father, sensing his conflict, stepped closer, covering Kylo’s hand with his own. “Ben…”  

 

The warmth of his father’s hand could be felt through Kylo’s gloves, and now Kylo could smell the familiar scent of oil and his father’s cheap aftershave. After all so many years, and nothing had changed…

 

_“Hang on Ben, you don’t want her to get away from you.” Han laughed as Ben held the controls for the Falcon, son perched on his father’s lap._

 

_Ben grinned happily, a noticeable gap from a missing front tooth doing nothing to mar the joy on the young boy’s face, “I’ve got it Dad!”_

 

_Han beamed back at him with an identical grin, “I know you do, Ben!” he laughed, “Think you’re ready to go into hyperdrive?”_

 

_“Yeah!”_

 

_A low growl came from where Chewie was stationed at the copilot’s station._

 

_“He’s got it, Chewie!” Han rolled his eyes at the wookie’s concern. “Alright, let’s go!”_

 

“Ben…”

 

Kylo looked into his father’s eyes: so tired, but so determined. He knew if he just flicked the ignition on his lightsaber, it go right through his father’s heart, and it would be over. His thumb hovered over the button for what seemed like an eternity. But he couldn’t. And his father could most likely sense it, as he pried the lightsaber from his hand.

 

And once the lightsaber was out of Kylo’s hand, Ben fell to his knees on the bridge, his father’s arms wrapped tightly around him.

 

* * *

 

 

Starkiller’s destruction was imminent. Hux could sense it. FN-2187 had led the Resistance onto the planet’s surface and disabled the shields, and already the Resistance pilots were already firing upon the exposed oscillator. A design “flaw” that Hux had known would be to the Resistance’s advantage when the time came.  The officers on the deck claimed that the pilots would not be able to destroy the oscillator with their fire alone, and they were correct...technically. They couldn’t sense the presence of two Force-sensitives as they made their way to the core of Starkiller.

 

Three Force-sensitives...oh kriff, Kylo Ren was there as well. Hux wished he could have gone to the scene to diffuse the inevitable confrontation between Kylo, Rey, and FN-2187.

 

But as it was, Hux had his own problems. Namely Snoke. With all the chaos surrounding the base, the Supreme Leader had found time to demand an audience with Hux. As if he needed anything more to stress about.

 

Not that he was going to let Snoke detect that.

 

 _“Kylo Ren is confronting his father.”_ Snoke stated calmly, as if one would discuss TIE fighter designs, “ _He is conflicted in his battle with the Light.”_

 

The conflict, Hux was more than aware of. No doubt he’d be found guilty of nurturing that conflict, fanning the flames of the heated battle. The presence of Han Solo...that, Hux had not been aware of. And there was no telling if Han’s presence would tip Kylo towards the Light….or further into the darkness.

 

Snoke did not seem concerned with Hux’s thoughts, continuing with his directives, _“Should things not fall in his favor, it will be time for him to finish his training so he will not be tempted in the future.”_  He nodded solemnly, “ _You are to find Kylo Ren and bring him to me.”_

 

Hux nodded, though the last thing he wanted to do was to push Ben further into Snoke’s grasp, “Of course, Supreme Leader. I shall find him at once.”

 

_“I suggest you do so before you pet project implodes.”_

 

In all honesty, Hux expected the jab at Starkiller’s demise. He simply expected it to be worse. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried that the Sith Lord’s displeasure at his supposed “failure” wasn’t so readily apparent.

 

But  as he began to leave the large chamber, he couldn’t concern himself too much with Snoke’s orders, he had to think of how to  let the other escape with Ben without being detected...

 

_“Oh, and General…”_

 

Pausing in his retreat from the inner sanctum, Hux turned slowly back to the Supreme Leader, “Yes, Sir?”

 

_“Did you really think you could hide your presence from me?”_

 

Hux stiffened, dread filling his body. No, surely he misunderstood… “Sir?”

 

 _“The Force is strong in you.”_ The Supreme Leader leaned forward in his gargantuan throne, _“You enshroud yourself in it, I see that. You have hidden from many, but you cannot hide from me.”_ A twisted smirk stretched across his marred face, _“That control is admirable, I look forward to testing your power.”_

 

A steely ball of dread settled in Hux’s gut, though it was tempered with the tepid balm of resignation. He knew it was only a matter of time before he was discovered...the fact he had gone undetected for as long as he had was nothing if not the will of the Force. At least he had assisted in Starkiller’s imminent destruction…

 

“Of course, Supreme Leader.” Hux bowed stiffly. He may have been detected, but he refused to let his role as a spy be compromised unless absolutely necessary, “I will fetch Kylo Ren and report to you at once.”

 

_“No, General. I think not.”_

 

Hux frowned slightly, his mind racing to gather the Sith’s meaning. But it was then that the doors opened, and Hux could see several Stormtroopers marching in, blasters at the ready.

 

_“These troops will be...assisting you in your endeavor, General. To ensure that everything goes as planned.”_

 

But as the troops made their way toward Hux, he knew that the troops were not to assist him in gathering Kylo Ren. They were to keep him from escaping.

 

“This way, General.” The squadron leader stated flatly. Hux didn’t need the Force to know that these were not normal Stormtroopers, but no doubt some abomination Snoke himself had constructed. And that there was little room for him to influence them.

 

Hux resisted the urge to sigh in defeat, holding his head upright with all the confidence a general could muster after being taken prisoner by his own troops, “Of course. Lead the way.”

 

* * *

 

 

 _I’m being torn apart…_ Ben’s head pounded in pain as he could almost feel the conflict between the Light and the darkness. How could he go back to the Light after everything he had done...after all he had sacrificed in the name of the dark side…

 

How could he go back?

 

“Ben…” His father’s hand rested on his back, rubbing it gently, “Ben, we need to get out of here, we’re about to blow this place up.”

 

Ben let out a half-hearted snort, “Of course you are…” He muttered, resting his head on his father’s shoulder, “I’m being torn apart…”

 

“How can I help?”

 

Such a simple question, yet so much meaning wrapped into four words. How he had longed to hear those words from his father when he was a child…before he had killed…but there was nothing for it now...he could not bring back the dead…

 

The thought of the dead, and the beautiful face of blue eyes and red hair that had haunted him, brought to mind a very different red head.

 

Hux…

 

Ben picked up his head, “I know what I have to do.” He whispered.

 

Han ran his hand through Ben’s hair, “Let me help.”

 

He shook his head, “No...I must do this alone.”

 

“Ben, you’ve been doing things alone for too damn long.” Han grit his teeth, “I let you go once and I’ve regretted it ever since. I’m not letting you go again.”

 

With a grunt, the smuggler helped Ben to his feet. Ben couldn’t even argue...even if he wanted to. Deep down, he was glad for his father’s stubbornness…

 

“Chewie!” Han shouted up to the upper levels of the chambers, “Get the kids back to the Falcon, we’ll meet you there!”

 

Ben looked up and, sure enough, Uncle Chewie was watching the entire scene unfold. What had surprised him, however, was the sight of the scavenger at the wookie’s side, in addition to the defected Stormtrooper.

 

Stormtroopers…

 

Ben realized half a moment too late that they were not, in fact, alone in the massive chamber. Blaster fire filled the air as confused Stormtroopers began to fire up at the trio, no doubt avoiding firing at Han because of Ben. Or rather, Kylo Ren. As it was, Ben wasn’t about to let the troopers harm his uncle (and by extension, the infuriating scavenger and the defector). The Force rippled through him as he forcibly pulled the troopers from their positions, allowing their bodies to fall into the pit below.

 

Han watched the spectacle in astonishment, shaking his head gently, “Reminds me of your uncle…”

 

“Like Uncle Luke would have killed without hesitation.” Ben muttered, shaking his head.

 

Han smirked, handing the lightsaber back to Ben, “Luke’s a Jedi, not a pacifist.”

 

“I thought there was no difference.”

 

“Then you’ve got a lot to learn.”

 

Ben shook his head, “We don’t have time for this. We need to move.”

 

Han smirked, hefting his blaster into his hands, “What’s the plan?”

 

* * *

 

 

Hux knew his time as general was reaching its end. Even if Starkiller wasn’t in shambles, the fact he was being marched throughout the base with two Stormtrooper commando squads leading the way, two positioned on either side of him, and two following behind, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was either stripped of his position politically (he highly doubted it) or physically. Knowing Snoke, there was likely torture and death in Hux’s future.

 

He had thought to try and influence the commandos with the Force, but had found that the troopers were already under the heavy influence of Snoke’s own orders. Hux wasn’t sure if this had been done to prevent him from escaping, or if Snoke was taking brainwashing to another level. At this point, it really didn’t matter.

 

The only thing truly bothering Hux was whether he more regretted never being able to free Ben, or that he couldn’t help the Resistance more...

 

The squadron leader held a datapad in his hand, reading the homing beacon that had been placed in Kylo Ren’s belt. Not that Hux needed it to sense Kylo’s presence, but he wasn’t about to help Snoke’s lackeys at that moment. Perhaps it was the Resistance in him rearing its head in passive aggression.

 

They were going deep into the bowels of Starkiller, Hux knew that. They were using access stairwells and maintenance corridors as opposed to the public access routes. Either Kylo Ren was sneaking around, of Snoke did not want this operation seen…

 

They had just turned off the stairwell surrounding a reactor core and into a corridor when the first word was spoken.

 

“Halt.”

 

The leader’s order was quickly followed, and Hux found himself being the one out of step, nearly walking into the guards in front of him. None of the troopers said a word as they waited for the squardron leader to give further instructions.

 

“Lord Ren is approaching.” The leader stated calmly, and the troopers all held their blasters an iota tighter.

 

And Hux...honestly, Hux didn’t know what to expect. Things had so quickly spiraled out of his control, he didn’t know how he was going to factor in Kylo Ren into his plans...or if he would be able to get out of this situation at all.

 

And so, they waited.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben never thought he’d live to see the day he’d willfully seek out General Hux. Then again, he never thought he’d turn his back on the dark side, or seek comfort in his father, or fight alongside his father through the corridors of Starkiller. But, there he was…

 

“So what are we looking for?” His father muttered as he trailed behind Ben.

 

“Not what.” Ben replied, ducking with his father into an alcove as a string of officers raced by, “We’re looking for a “who.””

 

“Alright, who are we looking for?”

 

Ben sighed, helping his father out of the alcove, “General Hux.”

 

Han raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Kid, I appreciate your ambition. And I’m sure your mother would be as well. But I’m pretty sure it’ll be alright if you don’t kill the most powerful man in the First Order.”

 

“You don’t understand, Dad.” Ben shook his head, nearly running down the corridor, “Starkiller is practically like the Deathstar used to be, if more destructive. But what you don’t understand, is even if we destroy Starkiller, they’ll just rebuild it, and rebuild it with stronger defenses.”

 

“Like the Deathstar…”

 

“Exactly like the Deathstar.” Ben muttered, “But here’s the thing you need to understand about the differences between the two: Starkiller was Hux’s brainchild, he oversaw everything from beginning to end. And I know Hux, he’s a paranoid control freak.” He snarled as he thought of Hux, “He hasn’t shared the full plans with any other officers, only permitting partial plans to certain divisions.

 

“If we kill Hux, and the files of Starkiller are destroyed when the planet implodes, then they cannot rebuild Starkiller. At least, not at the speed of the Deathstar.” Ben nodded, “Not to mention, like you said, he’s the most powerful man in the First Order. Killing him would certainly send the First Order into a tailspin.”

 

Han nodded, “Makes sense kid. But wouldn’t the general die when the planet explodes?”

 

“Implodes, Dad. There's a difference.” Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was like he was a teenager again. “But if the planet is really that bad, who do you think would be the first person they’d evacuate?”

 

As if to prove his point, Ben saw a large movement of white round its way around the corner of the long corridor. Ducking with his father at the other end of the corridor, hopefully out of sight, Ben could see a familiar shock of red among the white. Typical Hux. His beloved Starkiller was falling apart and he’s the first one to abandon ship. Disgusting.

 

“Lord Ren!”

 

Ben froze, surprised at being acknowledged by the unknown Stormtrooper. Had he seen...no, he and his father were completely hidden at the end of the corridor.

 

A small ping sounded from Ren’s belt, drawing both his and his father’s attention. It didn’t take a mechanical genius to discover what the small device on his belt was.

 

“How long have you had a tracker on you?” Han failed at whispering, his face red in frustration.

 

“I don’t know!” Ben didn’t fare much better at keeping his voice down. Now more than ever, he cursed the day Hux was born. That invasive little--

 

“Supreme Leader Snoke wishes to complete your training. You are to depart with General Hux immediately.”

 

Ben’s heart stopped at the mention of Snoke. Complete his training...that would mean becoming a full blown Sith...fully embracing the dark side...all he’d have to do is go to Snoke…

 

Looking at his father, Ben realized the old man was realizing the same thing. That, and Ben was holding his lightsaber.

 

Ben flicked the ignition.

 

* * *

 

 

For the first time in a long time, Hux was at a complete loss. Here he was, prisoner all but in name, surrounded by some of Snoke’s best trained drones, waiting for Kylo Ren to join them. He supposed it could be worse: the other Knights of Ren could be present, Rey could be captive as well, the Resistance could have failed their mission….but those thoughts failed to comfort him in that moment.

 

And then Kylo Ren stepped around the corner, lightsaber flaring at his side. Hux couldn’t help but mourn whatever poor being had just gotten in his way to earn his wrath, and beseeched the Force that it was neither Rey or FN-2187. Or Han Solo…

 

But then Hux realized: Ren was not wearing his mask. And, while Hux had grown accustomed to seeing Ren without his mask, he knew the Knight loathed to show anyone beside Hux and Snoke his true face.

 

Hux hadn’t even the time to try and piece together the meaning of the missing mask before the first shots of a blaster were fired, striking the squadron leader as well as several of the troopers in the front row, causing their bodies to fall limply to the floor. And just like that, the corridor erupted into a firefight.

 

It actually took Hux several moments to realize that the blaster fire had originally come from Han Solo, who had stepped out into the corridor behind his son. And after he realized that, it came to his attention that Ren’s lightsaber had been turned against the Stormtroopers, fighting alongside his father to strike down the members of the First Order.

 

And watching Ren’s movements, fluid and graceful as his lightsaber blocked and deflected blaster fire from the Stormtroopers, his body moving in harmony with the (albeit damaged and dark) blade, harmony that was previously unknown to Kylo Ren. Hux could see focused power being channeled into battling his opponents, serving as the perfect defensive measure for Han to fire at the troopers from behind Force user without fear of injury. He could see the way Ren’s face was no longer marred with rage and conflict. He could see the way Ren executed maneuvers from the bygone days of the temple. He could see the soulful brown glimmering with light once more as the last of the Stormtroopers fell.

 

He could see...Ben.

 

It was as he made this realization that something else struck him as well; a burning, all too physical, realization. Vaguely, over the smell of burning flesh and metal, Hux could see the hilt of Ren...Ben’s lightsaber protruding from the corner of his chest. At that point, the pain was next to nothing, shock overwhelming him.

 

Ben was standing across the corridor, arm still extended from where he had thrown the lightsaber. And Hux could not even bring himself to reach for his officer’s weapon at his belt...mainly because his arm was once again disabled. But he doubt he would even if he could, the sight of Ben after all those years making all the pain worthwhile.

 

“Just hurry up and die, Hux.” Ben growled, repositioning his feet like they had learned for one of their first katas as children,  “And take the First Order with you!” He shouted, pushing his hands forward in a mighty thrust.

 

The Force rippling from Ben was overwhelming, and Hux didn’t even have a chance to try and defend himself as he was bodily lifted from the ground and thrown against the far wall.

 

Or at least, he would have been, if there had been a wall to begin with. As it was, Hux’s legs caught the top of the railing on the stairwell around the reactor core, sending the general’s body tumbling as he went over the stairwell railing and plummeting to the floor below.

  
But if Hux had to pick being Snoke’s prisoner or his current fate, he’d choose to see the Light in Ben’s eyes as he fell into the darkness below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, Hux/Braeda is not dead. It's not that kind of fic. These two trashcans will get together eventually.
> 
> And yeah, Han totally shot first lol.
> 
> And I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, even if I don't think it was up to my usual standard. I hope it won't take me so long to write the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Before we get started with chapter four, I just wanted to give a big shoutout to all of you for being so supportive throughout this story, you all have been great! And a special shoutout to neriine on tumblr for this lovely image of freckled, sleeve-hating Braeda!
> 
> http://neriine.tumblr.com/post/139063096670/im-excited-for-the-next-chapter-of-wake-up
> 
> (also, I need to learn how to put links in my notes...)
> 
> Anyway, chapter four! I had a lot of fun researching for this chapter, and I feel like I've read more about lightsaber combat than I really should have ever. Some lightsaber technical language is used in this chapter, but I hope it won't be too confusing. I've included some explanations at the end of this chapter.
> 
> I'm going to apologize ahead of time, Ben was kinda being an attention whore this time, so he's hogging the spotlight this time.

Peace is perhaps the easiest idea in the galaxy to comprehend in concept, but perhaps the hardest to obtain in practice. For every being in existence, there were infinite ideas of what the image of what peace entailed. For some, peace was being surrounded by loved ones, safe at home. For others, it was being busy at work doing a job one loved. For others, especially those in the First Order, it was a controlled environment, free of conflict. And others still found peace in moments of stillness, savoring moments of nothingness.

 

For Ben, watching the body of General Hux tumble gracelessly over the steel railing and into the black abyss below was perhaps the closest to peace he had felt in nearly fifteen years.

 

It wasn’t even his personal feelings towards the general, though there were plenty of those to be found. Hux was perhaps the first life he had taken without the burden of guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. Ben supposed the fact Hux was a genocidal megalomaniac made it all the easier to kill him. No one would mourn the general.

 

“Nice shot, kid!”

 

Ben blinked out of his reverie, turning his attention back to his father. Han had stepped out of the alcove in which he had taken cover and was making his way toward Ben, “Nice trick, throwing the lightsaber like that. Luke teach you that?”

 

Biting his lip, Ben shook his head, “No, it was… a friend…”

 

_“Now why would I want to throw my lightsaber at a target?” Ben raised a curious eyebrow as he reclined against a large twisted tree in the temple courtyard, biting into a pear from said tree._

 

_Several feet away, Braeda stood facing a makeshift target (in reality, it was simply a sloppily painted X on a gnarled and dead tree husk some twenty meters away)._

 

_“Because, Ben,” Braeda replied, igniting the green blade of his lightsaber, “the lightsaber, while a powerful weapon, is limited to close quarter combat. Which limits you to defensive Shien if your target is across the galaxy from you, firing away with a blaster at you.”_

 

_Braeda took a deep breath, moving his body in the carefully practiced movements of a Soresu kata drilled into him by their master. Mid-kata, Braeda extended his arm and, with little more than a flick of his wrist, Braeda’s lightsaber flew from his grasp, landing dead center of the target X with a crackling hiss of the dead wood._

 

_“Nice shot.” Ben snorted, taking another bite of pear, “Of course, now you have no weapon to defend yourself with from other targets. Because there is very rarely a lone shooter in combat.”_

 

_The redhead didn’t answer, simply keeping his hand outstretched. Without so much as a shudder, the lightsaber shot back into his hand, and Braeda finished the Soresu routine with a deft flourish._

 

_Ben rolled his eyes, “Show off.”_

 

_“Hardly.” Braeda smirked, reaching out his free hand toward Ben. The younger had no chance to defend himself as his snack was stolen, the fruit flying into Braeda’s hand._

 

_“Hey!”_

 

_Braeda took a large bite of the juicy fruit as he disengaged his lightsaber, returning it to his belt as he enjoyed the pear, “Your turn.” He replied simply, walking to Ben’s shady place under the tree and sitting down._

 

_With a muted grumble, Ben rose to his feet, taking Braeda’s place before the target, “You sure you should use Soresu maneuvers with this? After all, if you're fighting close quarter combat, you won’t need to strike an opponent at a distance, or at least, you should concern yourself with your immediate targets first.”_

 

_Braeda smiled softly, “You’ve been paying attention. Master Skywalker will be pleased. And I imagine you could find a way to manage it with Shien. I just hadn’t managed to figure out the best way to make the throw using the classical reverse grip._

 

_“Djem So would be better served for this.” Ben replied, half practicing the moments._

 

_“Well, if you don’t think you could do it with Shien…”_

 

_Well, if there was something Braeda couldn’t do, Ben would have to make doubly sure he could perfect it. His lightsaber flared to life as he flicked the switch, and Ben settled into the Shien resting position, hands carefully positioned in the reverse grip. As Ben moved through the kata, he realized quickly what Braeda had meant: throwing the lightsaber would be difficult holding it as he was. He’d just have to try harder._

 

_Ben knew immediately after the lightsaber left his grasp that it would not strike true. Seeing it land, barely touching the uppermost left branch of the target X only made his gut tighten in annoyance._

 

_“Not bad.” Braeda nodded, “You actually hit the target. More than I can say when I tried it with Shien.”_

 

_With a sigh, Ben summoned his weapon back to his side, “I feel it may just be easier to carry a blaster as well as a lightsaber.”_

 

_“You’re probably right.” The redhead chuckled, “When we’re knights, we can carry our own sidearms…just in case.”_

 

“Shame you lost your weapon.” Han muttered.

 

Ben shook his head, “I could have retrieved it if I wanted back.”

 

“If?”

 

“If.” Ben repeated, “Besides, it isn’t like there’s a shortage of weapons to be found.” He waved his hand over the scattered blasters by the lifeless bodies of the fallen Stormtroopers, summoning the closest weapon into his grasp.

 

Han smirked, “Now you’re talking my language, kid.”

 

Ben rolled his eyes, “Don’t call me “kid”. I’m thirty years old.” He muttered, checking his grasp on the blaster. It had been a while since he had held one…

 

“You’ll always be my kid.” The smuggler chuckled, “Now, let’s get going, we have a planetary weapon to destroy.” With that, Han grabbed the communicator from his belt and held it to his mouth, “Blow it, Chewie!”

 

* * *

 

 

There were serious tactical advantages to detonating explosives during an escape. Explosions, as it would happen, make for very captivating diversion, leaving very few enemies aware enough to see and shoot at escapees.

 

However, an explosion, having served its purpose to weaken Starkiller’s oscillator, only opened the opportunity for the Resistance pilots to fire upon and destroy the vital piece of machinery. And Ben didn’t need the Force to know that kriffing Poe Dameron couldn’t wait more than a _minute_ before triggering the catastrophic planetary collapse.

 

“Could you not have waited until we were closer to the Falcon before you blew up the generator room?” Ben growled as he and his father ran through the snowy woods of Starkiller.

 

“Shut up and keep running, Ben!” Han barked, huffing as he tried his best to keep up with his son, “I’m getting too old for this.”

 

Ben was about to shout back a sarcastic reply about his father’s age, but the sight of the Falcon was enough for him to quickly eat those words. True, the old ship had seen better days (in reality, it looked downright dreadful. Where had that thing been the past fifteen years?); but it was still the Falcon. It was still the ship on which he learned to walk and fly into hyperspace, and it was still a welcome sight.

 

“Han!”

 

Ben could see the scavenger  running out of the Falcon’s hatch in a frantic spring, with the defected Stormtrooper close behind her. But Ben couldn’t concern himself too much with the two strays his father seemed to have adopted. He was more entranced with the all-too-familiar weapon that was clenched in the scavenger’s hand.

 

No...it couldn’t be…

 

“Look out!”

 

Ben realized too late that the scavenger’s frantic shouting were words of warning directed at them, and only became aware of the fact that they were being pursued when the night air was filled with the light and sounds of blaster fire.

 

And with the shock and pained cries of his father.

 

“ _No!”_

 

It had been a long time since Ben had felt true, bone-chilling fear. And watching his father’s body collapse in the snow, Ben was afraid. Afraid of capture, of dying...of facing his mother without his father.

 

Ben killed the soldier responsible for striking his father without hesitation, raining down his return fire upon the oncoming Stormtroopers as he rushed to his father’s side.

 

The smell of scorched flesh and boiled blood confirmed to Ben that the wound was serious, and the red-black stains upon the white snow confirmed that the wound was life threatening.

 

“Kriffing damn it…”

 

But the fact that his father was cursing was enough to comfort Ben: the dead did not usually swear (though if there would ever be an exception, it would probably be Han Solo).

 

“Don’t you die on me, old man.” Ben grunted, hefting his father up from the snow, “Can you walk?”

 

“Don’t call me “old man,”” Han muttered, breathing labored as he attempted, and failed, to take a step forward. “I can still kick your ass.”

 

Ben didn’t bother replying to his father’s bravado (though he would certainly be sure to continue the conversation later). Instead, Ben caught his father under the arm, heaving his father bodily over his shoulder. It was a good thing Ben was keeping up with his physical training, or else his father would have been too heavy to lift. As it was, he would need to get his father to the _Falcon_ quickly.

 

“Ren!”

 

He knew that voice, Ben didn’t need to look at the chrome body to know who was confronting him. It had never been a voice he feared, but the sound of his old title made his blood run cold.

 

“Phasma.” He replied coldly,shifting his grip on his father over one shoulder so he could hold his blaster with the other. Not that it would matter, Phasma already had her blaster leveled at him, and no matter how quick on the draw Ben might be (he was a Solo, after all), Phasma would decimate him should he try to fire.

Phasma’s expression was unreadable under her mask, but Ben could imagine her rage, “You traitor…” She hissed, her rage permeating the air around her.

 

Ben couldn’t exactly deny that.

 

But everything moved in slow motion after that. Ben could see Phasma’s finger twitch as it began to pull the trigger of her blaster, and Ben dropped his own blaster. He might not be able to out fire her, but his best chance to escape with his (and his father’s) life was to use the Force to deflect the blast. It was a race between Phasma’s trigger finger and Ben’s hand.

 

Neither noticed the third contestant in their unspoken duel.

 

Blue illuminated the scene as the blast rocketed from Phasma’s blaster, only for the familiar hum of a lightsaber to resonate through Ben’s being as its dazzling light danced between him and Phasma. The moment the scavenger swung his uncle’s lightsaber to deflect the blast, Ben could have sworn his heart stopped.

 

The other Stormtroopers, taking their cue from Phasma’s firing, began to fire once more. And Ben, transfixed, watched the scavenger move.

 

Step. Swing, pivot. Step. Pivot. Pivot, swing.

 

The movements were rough, unpracticed, but lightsaber was connecting with the blaster fire. And Ben realized where he had seen those movements before.

 

Djem So.

 

_“Ben, should you really be teaching the younglings Djem So?”  Braeda chuckled, observing the training yard from his perch in the branches of a large tree, “They should be mastering Form I first.”_

 

_Ben looked up from his instruction of a youngling, hands poised over hers to position the proper grip, “These younglings have already mastered Shii-Cho. They should begin incorporating offensive and defensive tactics.”_

 

_“They’re four standard years, Ben.” Braeda smiled softly, leaping down from the branches with grace, his outer robes draped over his shoulders to cloak his slighter frame, “I’m sure they can wait a few years before mastering Form V. Besides, wouldn’t Shien  be a more useful form of Form V to teach them?”_

 

_“Shien is too dependent on defense.” Ben reasoned, turning his attention back to the little girl, moving her arms through the movements of the kata as she swung the stick she used during practice. “The best defense is a good offense.”_

 

_“Especially for a four year old.”_

 

_“Shut up, it’s a useful form.”_

 

_“Does Master Skywalker know you’re teaching them this?”_

 

_“...”_

 

_“That’s what I thought.” Braeda smiled fondly, before moving to crouch by the youngling, “Don’t let him teach you any bad form, alright Rey?”_

 

_“Yes, Brae.”_

 

_Ben summoned the closest thing to him (a pear, of course) to fling at Braeda’s head, only for the infuriating redhead to catch the offending fruit, taking a bite of it as he walked away._

 

“Ben!”

 

His father’s pained voice pulled Ben from his memories, and into the perilous moment. The scavenger was beginning to falter in her movements, and they needed to get to the _Falcon_ before Starkiller imploded.

 

“Come on!” Han hissed, “Why are you just standing there?”

 

He didn’t have an excuse, so Ben chose not to answer, instead putting his energy to moving his father back to the _Falcon_. The scavenger, though clumsy in her movements, was doing a reasonable job of providing cover for them. As was the defected Stormtrooper (FN-2187, his memory supplied), using a blaster to provide suppressing fire.

 

“What is it with you and collecting strays?” Ben muttered, sprinting the last few meters onto the _Falcon’s_ hatch.

 

“...reminded me of old times…” His father replied weakly.

 

Well. Ben couldn’t argue with that. Even if he wanted to.

 

Uncle Chewie was waiting for them when Ben made it onto the main level of the ship. If they had not been running for their lives, and had Ben not had his father thrown over his shoulder like a wet Ewok, Ben might have been inclined to hug the Wookie. As it was, Ben could only provide a weak, and no doubt sheepish, smile.

 

“We need to take off now!”

 

“I know that! You don’t need to shout at me!”

 

So the scavenger and FN-2187 were on board as well, if the panicked voices were anything to go by. “Have they been like this the entire time you’ve had them?” Ben looked at Chewie, eyebrow raised.

 

Chewie shrugged, growling lowly.

 

“I see.” Ben muttered, shifting to gently lower his father onto the floor, “Well I can’t let them pilot the _Falcon_  like that.”

 

“They’re actually pretty good pilots, considering.” Han groaned.

 

Ben raised an eyebrow, “Well “pretty good” isn’t going to get us off this planet in one piece.”

 

“You’d be surprised.”

 

“I’m sure I would be.”

 

* * *

 

 

The two were in the cockpit, trying to figure out the best method of taking off while their nerves were completely frazzled. Ben didn’t have the patience for skittish fliers.

 

“Move.” He pointed at FN-2187, jerking his head toward the door, “Make sure my father doesn’t die on us.”

 

The ex-Stormtrooper seemed torn between complying (whether from training as a soldier or from fear of Kylo Ren, he wasn’t sure) and staying by the scavenger’s side.

 

“Now, FN-2187.” He hissed.

 

The former soldier steeled himself under Ben’s gaze, “It’s Finn, now.”

 

“Finn, then. Please move so that I may pilot us to safety” Ben tried again. The Stormtrooper had changed...there was ...something about him...Ben would have to explore if further when they were safely out of danger.

 

Finn, it seemed, was swayed more by polite requests than commands, as he slid out of the seat slowly, “Will Han be alright?”

 

Ben sighed, moving to take over as pilot, “The man survived being frozen in Carbonite. If he dies of a blaster shot, I’m sure he’ll be very annoyed in the afterlife.” He gave the younger man a look, “That being said, you should probably check on him. It would be very...unfortunate if he were to die in your care.”

 

Finn did not like the idea of Han dying in his care, as he was out of the cockpit without another word. Leaving Ben with the _Falcon’s_ controls.

 

And the scavenger.

 

“Are you sure you can fly this thing?” She asked, skeptical eyebrow raised.

 

Ben snorted, firing up the _Falcon’s_ engine, “The son of Han Solo, and you ask if I can fly the _Falcon._ I was raised on this hunk of junk, I could pilot it before you were aware enough to wet yourself.”

 

With that, Ben punched the thrusters to their fullest extent. Only for the engine to whine pathetically.

 

“Kriff!” Ben swore, reaching under the engine panel to rewire the failing engine, “Where has the old man been keeping this thing?”

 

“Jakku.” The scavenger replied.

 

“What is it with everyone’s obsession with that damn planet?” Ben gave the reactor a firm kick before climbing up into the pilot’s seat once more, “Why not Tatooine? At least that has some historical significance to make the sand worth it!” He tried the thrusters once more, smirking in satisfaction as the _Falcon_ decided to comply with his wishes. “There we are girl, that wasn’t so bad…”

 

It wasn’t until they were out of Starkiller’s atmosphere that Ben realized the scavenger was staring at him intently.

 

“What?” Ben looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

 

“You’re Kylo Ren.” She stated bluntly.

 

“Was.” He replied shortly, “I was Kylo Ren. I’m not anymore.”

 

She frowned, “You were intent on torturing me for the information on Skywalker’s map just hours ago, am I supposed to believe you just... _changed your mind_?”

 

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.” He muttered, taking a deep breath. If he thought about it, it did all sound ridiculous. “And it wasn’t a change of mind…”

 

“Then what was it?”

 

“Would you believe me if I said…” He sighed slowly, “What you said to me...it reminded me of something...someone…”

 

 _Ben, you will_ never _be Darth Vader._

 

Oh Braeda...Ben could only hope that when he met Braeda in the Force, that the other would be able to forgive him… he only hoped that he could fix the wrongs he had wrought...somehow…

 

“Who?” She insisted, and Ben could feel her presence pressing against him in a blundering attempt to search his mind. Rude.

 

Ben easily deflected her attempts this time, anticipating her power, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll tell you who it was who you reminded me of, if you tell me who your teacher was.”

 

“Teacher?”

 

“Yes.”  Ben nodded, “Who taught you the Force.”

 

“No one--”

 

“That wasn’t a question.” Ben interrupted, “You had a teacher.”

 

“No, I don’t know the Force!”

 

“You do!” Ben shouldn’t have raised his voice, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know, “Someone had to teach you the ways of the Force, and how to use a lightsaber.”

 

“I haven’t used a lightsaber before.” She shook her head furiously, “I don’t know the Force…” Ben wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. He didn’t think she was convincing either.

 

“You deflected those blasts with Form V maneuvers, it was sloppy, but I recognize Jedi technique.” He pressed, “Who. Taught. You?”

 

“No one taught me Djem So!”

 

The silence that followed was deafening, both pilots frozen in their seats like they were made of Carbonite. Neither dared move for several moments.

 

Ben broke the silence first, “Then how did you know it was called Djem So?”

 

The scavenger’s sun scorched face paled, and she jumped out of her copilot’s seat, “Stop that...you’re doing something to me…”

 

“You know I’m not. You can sense it in the Force.” Ben replied evenly, “I couldn’t get into your mind before, and I can’t now. Not without your permission.”

 

She was shaking her head vigorously, “No, you have to have done something...I would remember...I would remember if I was...if I was a Jedi…”

 

“You wouldn’t have been a Jedi.” Ben shook his head, looking at her intently, “You’re close to twenty standard years, correct?”

 

The scavenger nodded.

 

“You would have been a youngling when I…” He didn’t finish his sentence, “What do you remember of your childhood?”

 

“I was left on Jakku.” There was a hard edge to her voice at the simple statement.

 

Ben would have to investigate that at a later time, “Before that.”

 

Silence. But, judging by the look of confusion on the young woman’s face, she was struggling to remember _anything_ of before that time.

 

“Do you remember your family?” He asked.

 

“Just when they--”

 

“--left you on Jakku.” Ben finished her sentence. He could see where this was going, even if she could not, “Can you not remember their faces?”

 

“...No…”

 

“Someone’s altered your memories.” He stated flatly, reaching to the _Falcon’s_ controls, and flipping on the auto-pilot. He stood slowly from the pilot’s chair, towering over the young scavenger as he stepped toward her, “I can search your mind for the lies...I can bring you clarity...I can--”

 

He stopped in his tracks, staring intently at the scavenger’s face. Her hazel eyes stared up at him with strength she shouldn’t have. A few brown tresses had escaped being tied back, and framed her face. An interesting way to tie back hair…

 

_“Why do you insist on tying her hair back like that?” Ben laughed as Braeda fussed with the long hair of the various younglings._

 

_Braeda only smiled softly,  “It’s the only way to keep Rey’s hair from her face.”_

 

“Rey.”

 

The shock was more than apparent on the scaven-- no, on Rey’s face, “How do you know my name?”

Ben swallowed thickly, stepping closer to the young girl-turned-woman, cradling her face gently in her hands.

 

“Because I taught you.”

 

* * *

 

 

_There were voices surrounding Braeda, but they seemed so far away. He could sense their presence, how very near they felt, but they all sounded so very far away indeed._

 

_Or was he the one that was so distant?_

 

_Where was he?_

 

**_Braeda_ **

 

_Master was calling for him. Had he overslept and missed morning exercises? No, that didn’t sound right at all. Even if he was the type to oversleep, Ben would let--_

 

_Ben._

 

_Ben had fallen. The light in him had gone dark._

 

_Ben had attacked the temple._

 

_Ben had killed the padawans and the younglings._

 

_Ben had killed...him?_

 

**_Braeda, no!_ **

 

_Ben hadn’t killed him. He tried though. Ben had tried to kill him...after everything...how could he… what was Braeda supposed to do now without Ben…_

 

**_Braeda, wake up!_ **

 

_Braeda’s eyes obeyed the command before Braeda was aware enough to pull himself from his thoughts. The world was blue. And thick, his limbs moving sluggishly as he moved. Liquid…._

 

_A Bacta tank. Right, he had been injured. He was recovering, he had lived. He could feel the oxygen being pumped into his lungs via the mask on over his nose. He could feel his limbs drifting weightlessly in the tank, and his padawan braid caress the nape of his neck every few moments._

 

_And his eyes, once they had focused through the thick liquid, could see the face of his master on the other side of the tank._

 

_Master Skywalker was tired, he could see that. There were dark circles under his eyes, making the electric blue of his eyes all the more piercing through the Bacta, and casually styled tresses of his sandy hair and beard were now disheveled, and stained with bits of faded ash. And were there wrinkles etched into his master’s brow?_

 

_Had his master gotten old while he slept?_

 

**_Braeda…_ **

 

_His master’s lips hadn’t moved, but Braeda knew he was speaking to him, his comforting presence surrounding him like the Bacta he was submerged in. He could see his master pressing his mech hand against the wall of the tank, and he felt compelled to reach out. His hand was sluggish to respond to his command, but eventually his flesh met the cool glass of the tank in silent comfort to his beloved master. He was rewarded with a small, tired smile, and Braeda was satisfied. In that moment, he could almost forget the horrors he had faced._

 

_Then his master pressed his flesh hand against the glass, and no matter how Braeda commanded his limbs, his other arm would not move._

 

_His other…_

 

_Dread washed over him like a winter shower as his eyes slowly drifted to his rebellious limb._

 

_Or rather, where it should have been. Instead, Braeda found himself staring at nothingness where an arm should be, and hunks of steel and exposed bone where his clavicle and many of his ribs should be._

 

_Part of him was missing. Ben took it...Ben took it when he tried to kill him._

 

_Braeda could hear frantic beeping now, and shouts from various people rushing to his tank, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Oxygen wasn’t being pumped to him fast enough as he began to panic._

 

_Part of him was missing. But he wasn’t sure it was the arm he missed the most._

 

There were voices surrounding Hux, and they were very close.

 

And they were scared.

 

Which was slightly confusing, but Hux was slightly more concerned with the fact he was achieving awareness once more. After all, his last memory had been with Kylo Ren’s lightsaber lodged under his clavicle and being flung off a stairwell. Why in name of the Outer Rim was he still alive?

 

Though Hux was loath to open his eyes without knowing everything around him, he knew he would be forced to to use all of his senses to piece together the mystery of his survival.

 

Blue eyes opened, only to be greeted with the steel gray of a First Order transport. Specifically, the ceiling of a First Order transport, with seamless welds and freshly polished finished, but that wasn’t important at the moment. What was important was the fact Hux was on a transport, and not on Starkiller. Which meant someone had moved him there.

 

His traitorous heart hoped for a moment it had been Ben, realizing who he was, who carried him to safety; but his rational mind reminded himself that, it that were the case, he would be on the Falcon, not a First Order craft.

 

A member of the First Order had him. Which meant that Hux was still in very real danger, especially if his…saviors were aware of Snoke’s directive concerning him.

 

But then again… who would be aware of the command given concerning him? Snoke’s own commandos had been slaughtered by Ben (and how, how Hux’s being sang out to say that name again in reference to the present), and Snoke was loath to speak directly to anyone but Hux and Kylo Ren…

 

Regardless, he would have to be cautious until he knew for sure. Which meant he first needed to learn in whose custody he was in.

 

Hux’s body groaned in protest as the fallen General heaved himself from his laying position, the shooting pain in his back and legs told him that he must have taken his fall on one of the two (and no doubt he would regret moving so soon, but he couldn’t think on that), and a heavy _thunk_ echoed in the small chamber of the transport. Hux’s gaze turned to his arm, which sprawled against the floor like so much dead weight. Which it was.

 

With his good arm, Hux reached to unbutton his jacket and uniform to better inspect the wound caused by the lightsaber. In one breath, Hux praised and cursed Ben’s aim with a lightsaber. On one hand, Ben’s lack of accuracy meant that Hux wasn’t dead or suffering a serious flesh wound (or missing a lung). But on the other hand, the unstable lightsaber had melted through much of the circuits and wires that connected his mech arm to his body’s real nerves. And without the circuits to send information from the arm to his brain, and vice versa, Hux was stuck with a hunk of steel attached to his shoulder that was useless as an arm.

 

Not that it didn’t have its other uses, but he needed an arm at that moment.

 

As Hux moved to his feet, he heard the gentle, but heavy rustling of fabric dropping to the floor. Looking down at his feet, he realized that his greatcoat had been laid over top of him like a blanket. An odd gesture of tenderness, especially in the First Order. Especially directed toward him.

 

The situation was becoming more suspicious by the moment, and Hux needed to plan his escape as quickly as he could. His role had been compromised, and he needed to extract himself sooner rather than later.

 

But first, he’d need to get past the door and to the bridge. Which meant he’d have to use his hand to get past the biometric lock. It was a hassle, maneuvering the dead weight of the mechanical arm to place his hand on the scanner, and Hux’s patience was worn all the thinner when access was still denied. The sensor was designed to detect body temperature and a pulse as well, so that an intruder couldn’t just cut off an officer’s hand and gain access using that. And with the circuits in Hux’s arm destroyed, there was nothing to help the arm maintain a human temperature or simulate a pulse, leaving it a piece of cold metal under fake skin.

 

In the end, he needn’t have bothered, as the door soon opened with a rush of compressed air, leaving Hux dumbstruck at the face that greeted him.

 

“Mitaka…”

 

* * *

 

 

His father was stable, according to Uncle Chewie. He’d probably need to visit Medical for an extended stay when they returned to base, but he’d live.

 

For that, Ben was grateful. He truly didn’t know what he would have done if his father had died in his arms on Stariller.

 

He let Chewie take over piloting for a little while so he could check on his father. Rey was avoiding him (not that he blamed her, their situation was rather…unorthodox at the moment), and Finn didn’t quite trust him (not that he blamed him either).

 

At least he knew where he stood with his father…even if he didn’t deserve his father’s good graces.

 

That being said, he still hesitated as he stood at the doorway of his father’s cabin, watching his father lay in his bunk. His father’s chest was bound tightly with bandages, though Ben could already see flecks of red peeking through the off-white wrappings.

 

“You gunna stand there all day, kid?”

 

Ben looked away from the bandaged wound and back at his father’s face, smiling at him (no doubt under the influence of some sort of painkiller). How could his father smile at him after everything Ben had done to him, to the family? How could he ever earn that love back…

 

“You look like bantha shit, old man.”

 

That was not how he wanted to start over with his father. But Han didn’t seem to bat an eye at the insult, “Yeah, I’m sure I do…” He chuckled weakly, wincing slightly as his chest protested, “Your mother is going to have a field day when she sees me…”

 

“I think she’ll be a bit more distracted in seeing me.” Ben muttered, moving to sit by his father’s side on the bunk.

 

Han nodded, “You’re probably right.” He sighed, laying his head back on his pillow.

 

Ben couldn’t look his father in the eye, especially now that they were talking about his mother. At that moment, he’d rather face Snoke again… “How can I ever face her…”

 

“Much like I did after fifteen years.” His father took a deep breath, “The worse she’d do to is slap you, I think…and doubt she’d even do that to you.”

 

“We aren’t talking about you, Dad.” Ben shook his head, “I didn’t just run off, I became a mass murdering pseudo-Sith who betrayed everything I was taught to hold dear.”

 

“Very true.”

 

“…This won’t end well for me, Dad.” Ben continued, looking down at his hands, “I’m one of the biggest enemies of the Resistance, I was a leader of the First Order. It won’t matter what Mom wants or thinks, the Resistance will demand my head…”

 

Ben wasn’t naive enough to believe that the Resistance would accept him with open arms. He knew he would have to pay for his crimes, most likely with his life. And, oddly enough, he was at peace with that knowledge. It was strange, but he felt more at peace going to his death with the Resistance than he had been in a position of power in the First Order.

 

His father’s hand gently laid over Ben’s own, rough calluses moving over the leather of Ben’s gloves. “We’re going to figure this out, Ben. We always do.”

  
Ben didn’t doubt that. But he was also prepared for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lack of Hux/Braeda this chapter, but Ben really demanded the attention of this chapter. And sorry for Hux's scene with Mitaka ending with such a cliff hanger. I promise they'll get more attention next chapter.
> 
> Oh, and for those of you curious about the technical terms used with lightsaber techniques, here's the deal: there are seven main forms of lightsaber combat. Here are the one's I mentioned:
> 
> Form I: Shii-Cho. This is basically Lightsaber fighting 101, it's all the rudimentary techniques. Hence why younglings should master this first.  
> Form III: Soresu. This technique is designed for close quarter combat, as well as deflecting blaster shots, utilizing tight, quick movements.  
> Form V: Shien/Djem So. Form V is a defensive technique, and has two names because it has two branches. Shien is the more traditional form, and is almost purely defensive. Its ancient technique originally used the reverse grasp (like that favored by Ahsoka Tano). Djem So, on the other hand, was developed by practitioners who felt that being too defensive in combat would cause fighting to last too long, and incorporated offensive measures as well as defensive technique (fun fact: Anakin Skywalker's favored technique was Djem So).
> 
> Let me know what you think, I love all the wonderful feedback you've given me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally! Update time! I don't have much to say other than I hope you enjoy!

In the over ten years that Hux had spent infiltrating the First Order, he could honestly say he had never met someone in the ranks who was as…curious as lieutenant Mitaka. Sure, on the surface, Mitaka was a good soldier, a fast study and one who knew how to complete a task without being told twice. Every time the lieutenant had been assigned to tail him for meetings or to oversee a mission, the officer was a loyal and intelligent man, even if he was a bit more on the skittish side.

 

But there were the mysterious notes lurking in Mitaka’s file, as Hux had unearthed. The young man’s medical record indicated that he had been sent to Medical by Kylo Ren more than any other officer. That alone was enough to pique Hux’s interest: most sent to Medical due to Kylo Ren were only sent once. Just once. Either because they avoided Ren after that or they never exited Medical. Hux wasn’t sure what it meant, either that Mitaka had zero self preservation when it came to Ren, or that the lieutenant had somehow appointed himself Ren’s whipping boy.

 

Then there was the fact that the lieutenant was…well, a lieutenant. According to Mitaka’s file, he had been up for promotion several times (some even with his own signature attached to them). By Hux’s estimations, Mitaka should have at least been a major, if not higher in the ranks. But he wasn’t. All promotions for Mitaka had been strangely passed over for one reason or another.

 

But in the grand scheme of things, there were worse crimes than visiting Medical more often than other officers, or being passed over for promotion. And other than those two things, there wasn’t anything about the young man that warranted Hux to be on guard.

 

At least until he woke up on that transport, and found Dopheld Mitaka standing on the other side of the door. That had been…surprising to say the least.

 

Mitaka, to his credit, seemed equally surprised to see Hux.  

 

“General…” The lieutenant breathed, his eyes wide with shock. “You’re awake!”

 

“So it would seem…” Hux replied slowly, watching the lieutenant carefully as he stepped out of the chamber he had woken up in. There was something…off about the lieutenant, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Yet.

 

Mitaka cleared his throat, “I didn’t…we didn’t anticipate you waking up anytime soon.”

 

Funny, Hux hadn’t anticipated he would wake up at all. And the lieutenant had referred to Hux as “General” still…so all in all, things did appear to be going well.

 

“Status report, lieutenant.” While Hux knew that in reality, his position as General was…tenuous at best, as long as he was alive and in the First Order’s grasp, he would not allow his carefully crafted mask to break. Breaking character would only come if he was absolutely certain he was compromised…and as a last resort.

 

Judging by the way Mitaka stood up all the straighter in his attention, Hux’s fall from grace was not well known among the ranks. Good, it would make taking control of the ship easier. He just needed to make his way to the bridge, his feet making their movements nearly as rapidly as his mind was forming a plan.

 

“Sir…” Mitaka began, swallowing thickly as the younger man trailed behind Hux’s steps, “Starkiller has fallen.”

 

Hux couldn’t help it: he gave an ugly snort in morbid amusement. “Oddly enough, I deduced that myself.” Though it was comforting to hear it in an official capacity. That abomination would never again fire, nor would anything like it come into being…not if Hux had anything to say about it.

 

Mitaka nodded, “Yes Sir…the Resistance caught us by surprise…”

 

Not really. “And how is it I came to be on this ship, and not dead on Starkiller?”

 

“Oh!” Mitaka blinked nervously, a habit that Hux had found mildly annoying. Honestly, the man had no control of his emotions… “Well, Sir, while escorting officers to evacuation points, we discovered you…well, actually, sir, you nearly landed on top of us…with Kylo Ren’s lightsaber in your chest…”

 

There was something off about Mitaka, Hux realized, more than the lieutenant’s usual quirks. He just couldn’t put his finger quite on what it was. No doubt it would eat at him until he knew for sure what it was…

 

“…I apologize for not having a med droid see to your wounds, we only just left Starkiller’s atmosphere, and the surrounding battle zone.”

 

Hux brought his focus back on the young lieutenant, watching his expression carefully as he finished his report, “I assure you, I am not in any critical condition.”

 

“I can see that sir.” Mitaka nodded quickly, “Remarkable, really…”

 

The only remarkable thing was the fact that Hux had the fortune to land in front of the perhaps the one officer in the First Order who would go through the effort of dragging his lifeless body off the planet. The Force must not want him to die yet.

 

“And what of the crew?” Hux found himself asking. If there were other officers on board, he needed to know who. There were some who were more than willing to exploit Hux’s injury to further their own political goals, so he needed to be on his guard.

 

Actually, he needed a weapon.

 

Just in case.

 

“The…crew, sir?” Mitaka cleared his throat.

 

Hux raised an eyebrow in curiosity. As if he needed another reason to suspect Mitaka was hiding something, “Yes, the crew. Or do you intend to have me believe you’re flying this ship on your own?”

 

“Oh!” The lieutenant gave an awkward chuckle before opening the bridge doorway, “Well, we don’t exactly have a full crew…”

 

It wasn’t until Hux stepped out onto the bridge that he fully understood what Mitaka meant. Forget being staffed with a full crew, Hux doubted any of the officers present on that bridge had ever flown in combat situations. His eyes quickly scanned the uniforms of various officers: communications, research and development, engineering…it was a complete mess of uniform colors and officer medals.

 

That was what truly set off the alarms in Hux’s mind. Seeing the mismatched company brought his attention to the other warning signs. The uniforms themselves were not up to their usual standards: none of the officers were wearing their covers, and some had even elected to unbutton their outer jackets or discard them completely. Even Mitaka was missing his cover and his jacket had several of its buttons undone. Hux should have noticed that immediately, the lieutenant was almost as meticulous in his appearance as Hux was.

 

But the biggest sign something was terribly wrong was when the officers on deck noticed Hux’s presence.

 

Hux had grown…accustomed to being treated certain ways by those under his command. The way his subordinates would snap to attention in his presence, the look of adoration on their faces (perhaps laced with no small dose of professional envy), the unwavering respect they had for him.

 

He didn’t see any of that from these officers.

 

He saw fear.

 

They feared him, and his presence. And they had no qualms in showing it.

 

“Mitaka!” A lieutenant hissed, rushing from his station to where Mitaka was standing at Hux’s side. If Hux’s memory served him well (and it usually did: a standard skill for a good spy), it was lieutenant Rodinon from fire control. “You said he wouldn’t wake up!”

 

“I didn’t think he would.” Mitaka admitted, shaking his head.

 

Then it all clicked. The mix of officers, the lack of organization among them, their disregard to order, their fear of him. The fact they had even “evacuated” in the first place. Hux knew there had been no notice to evacuate— he had purposely not made one. He had wanted as many First Order officers to die on Starkiller as possible. It was perhaps not the way Master Skywalker would have wanted him to handle the situation…but Hux couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

“You all abandoned your posts.” Hux stated dryly, “You’re all deserters.”

 

It wasn’t so much a question or a comment, but more Hux thinking out loud. Yet the words served to cause the officers to flinch in their positions, shirking away from him as if he had the power to have them all executed on the spot.

 

But then the fearful gazes of the officers drifted from Hux…and settled on Mitaka. Slowly, Hux turned his attention to Mitaka.

 

And, more importantly, at the blaster the lieutenant had pointed directly at his heart.

 

“Brendol Hux, you’re under arrest for war crimes against the galaxy, and the genocide of the Hosnian system.”

* * *

 

 

Ben sat with his father for some time. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he had fallen asleep at some point. All he knew was that eventually, he felt his father’s callused fingers card through his hair slowly.

 

“You need a haircut, kid.” Han muttered, examining the dark locks between his fingers.

 

Ben snorted, “I think we have more important things to worry about than my hair, old man.”

 

“You don’t want your mother to see you like this.”

 

No…Ben really didn’t. “I doubt she’d like to see me dead, either, but I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do for that.”

 

Han shook his head, “You’ve spend too much time in the dark, kid. Always thinking so negative…I’ve got a plan, don’t worry.”

 

“The fact you have a plan makes me all the more worried.”

 

“Stop that, you sound like your mother.” Han smiled fondly, moving his hand to cradle Ben’s cheek, “I’ve forgotten how much I missed the both of you…”

 

Ben looked away, “Please, don’t look at me like that…”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like I’m something other than a monster.”

 

“Well you’re going to have to get used to it, kid.” A surprisingly firm grip took Ben by the chin, directing his gaze back to his father, “Because this is how I’m going to look at you. And you better believe this is how your mother is going to look at you.”

 

Ben closed his eyes, trying to keep tears at bay at the thought of his mother, “How could mother ever forgive me for what I have done?”

 

“Because she has a surprising soft spot for scoundrels.” Han sighed, settling back in his pillows.

 

A snort escaped Ben before he could stop it, “I think I’m a bit worse than a scoundrel, dad.”

 

“True, the whole “turning to the dark side” was a bit much.” Han chuckled dryly, “But I think at heart, you’re a scoundrel.”

 

“Am I meant to take comfort in that?” Ben raised an eyebrow.

 

“Take it as the honest truth.” Han smirked, running a hand through his hair, “People tried to tell me there was too much Vader in you…but honestly, Vader would have struck me down on that bridge…Vader only abandoned the dark side when your uncle was dying in front of him, pleading for his life…you came back when I gave you the chance…and if I’m right, you’ve been wanting to come back for some time.”

 

Ben couldn’t deny that, even if he wanted to. “That doesn’t change the thing’s I’ve done.”

 

“Nor does it change the things I did, Ben.” Han replied, “And trust me, I’ve done some pretty bad things.”

 

“You haven’t aided in destroying an entire system.”

 

“Alright, not that bad, but pretty bad.” The older man rolled his eyes, “Bad enough for Jabba the Hutt to put a bounty on my head.”

 

“Yes, I remember that story…” Ben smiled softly, remembering all the times his father, his mother, and even his uncle would recount the tale of when they took on the Hutt crime lord.

 

Han smiled in return, “My point was, Ben, is that even if you’ve done bad things in your life…you can still do the right thing.”

 

Ben shook his head, “I doubt I’ll ever be able to make up for the things I’ve done.”

 

“Neither will I.” Han added, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try.”

 

“When did you become so wise?” Ben snorted at the thought of his father giving him words of wisdom, “Or did you hear that from Uncle Luke?”

 

“I can be wise when I want!”

 

“So you did hear it from Uncle Luke.”

 

“You know what, I change my mind: I like the other two kids better. They respect me.” Han pouted, mostly in jest. Mostly.

 

Ben smiled softly, “I’m sure they do, old man.” With a tired sigh, Ben checked his father’s bandages, taking care to replace those that had already been bled through.

 

Han watched him carefully, an unreadable expression on his face, “In all seriousness, Ben: the galaxy needs people like us.”

 

Ben chuckled, “People like us? Are you referring to the Solo clan specifically?”

 

“No, scoundrels.” Han nodded, “Scoundrels like us…we know the galaxy isn’t a perfect place. We aren’t afraid to shoot first because we know if we don’t, we likely won’t survive. We know that sometimes, to get what we want and need, we need to selfishly take it. We know that some people aren’t redeemable, and the galaxy is better off without them. We aren’t afraid to kill, because it’s either that, or be killed. And we do it without losing a wink of sleep.”

 

Pausing, Ben looked at his father’s face intently. The seriousness on his father’s face was something that Ben was not used to seeing, and it struck a chord with him, “Why would the galaxy need people like us?”

 

Han smiled softly, “So that people like your mother, and your uncle, can thrive. Luke and Leia…they’re a rare breed, one of honor, and justice, and and a level of goodness I doubt either of us could ever understand. People like them…they’re the real hope of the galaxy. The rest of us are just basking in their light. And the scum of the galaxy would devour them in an instant if we let them.”

 

Ben smiled weakly, “Is that what we do? We keep the galaxy, and its scum, at bay?”

 

“Nah…” Han shook his head, “We deal with the dirty work, the imperfections of life, so they don’t have to.” He smiled softly, “I didn’t really know that there was pure goodness in the galaxy until I met your uncle…or that honor was something more than a bedtime story until I met your mother…and the next thing I knew…I was dive bombing the Deathstar to make sure your uncle didn’t get himself killed.”

 

A chuckle escaped Ben before he could stop himself, “I don’t think I’ve heard you wax poetically about Uncle Luke and Mom…”

 

“And for that, I apologize.” His father smirked, “I can always make up for lost time…”

 

“Please don’t.”

 

“Another time then.” Han teased, moving his arm to rest behind his head, “Maybe that’s what you need…”

 

Ben’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

 

“Were you not listening, kid?” Han snorted, wincing slightly as his wound was aggravated, “Scoundrels like us…we need some pure soul to look after…it keeps us from becoming one of the real scum of the galaxy… who knows what I would have become if I hadn’t come across your uncle and mother…”

 

“You’re saying I need a pure soul to protect?” Ben smiled at the thought, “Uncle Chewie must have gone overboard on the painkillers…”

 

“I’m serious, Ben.”

 

Ben knew he was. And the thought sat unsettlingly in his gut. Because the thought of a pure soul only brought forth the visage of auburn hair and slate blue eyes. “…I had one…” Ben whispered softly, “Before…everything."

 

“That redheaded kid, right?”

 

Startled, Ben looked up at his father, “What?”

 

“That redhead kid you were always hanging out with while you were training with Luke.” Han smiled softly, shaking his head, “I forgot his name, but…your mother and I suspected there was something more…we just didn’t want to say anything until you felt comfortable telling us.”

 

If Ben had been younger, he might have burst into tears, burying his face in his father’s chest as he mourned the love he could never have. As it was, Ben blinked any traitorous tears that tried to show themselves, “It doesn’t matter…I killed him, Dad…he’s dead…”

 

“Yeah…” The callused hand returned to Ben’s hair, “So what will you do now? Wallow in self-pity and loathing? Or will you do something to make it right?”

 

“I can’t make anything right with a dead man.”

 

“No, but you can with his memory.” Han nodded, “And as it would happen, there are a couple of pure souls lurking around the Falcon who are going to need a scoundrel to protect them, and we both know I’m too old to keep up with them.”

 

Silence hung between them, a relaxed and comfortable substance, as Ben pondered on his father’s words. He knew that Rey would need a teacher to continue her training of the Force, and no doubt Rey would be the one to find Uncle Luke and bring him back. And FN-2187…Finn…he would no doubt spiral out of control in the absence of the rigid control of the First Order…unless he had help. Of course, Ben’s relationship with both Rey and Finn was…not the strongest.

 

“I doubt they’d let me…”

 

Han shrugged, “I find that most times, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”

 

* * *

 

 

For longer than Hux would have preferred, he was at a loss. Of all the officers to turn on him, Dopheld Mitaka was perhaps the last person Hux would have expected to point a blaster at his heart.

 

“Under arrest?” Hux raised an eyebrow, his mind working double time to catch up with the situation, “And who, pray tell do you plan on turning me in to? The Republic? It’s gone! There’s no one else who—”

 

His words cut off as realization dawned on him. No, it couldn’t be…

 

“The Resistance…” He breathed, staring evenly at Mitaka, “You’re going to hand me over to the Resistance.”

 

If Mitaka felt any guilt for betraying his commanding officer, he did a good job of hiding it. Only the slight tightening of his grip told Hux the truth. “The Resistance will no doubt pay a high price for your head, General.”

 

“Of course.” Hux murmured, looking at the lieutenant with new eyes, “And no doubt if you deliver me to the Resistance, they’ll look the other way as you lot make your escape to parts unknown.” He smirked, “Was this your idea, Mitaka?”

 

It was, Hux could sense the truth resonating from the former lieutenant as Hux stared into the younger’s eyes. Mitaka held his gaze evenly, the needless blinking gone. And among other emotions, determination was there as well, the beginnings of what Hux could tell would one day become an iron will. A strong man had been born while Hux hadn‘t been watching, one who, while still growing into his role, had somehow lured Hux into a false sense of security.

 

“We will no longer be complacent in the First Order’s bloodbath, Hux.” Mitaka bit out evenly, having no doubt rehearsed the line in his head one hundred fold, “Now, you can either sit down and we’ll have a med droid check your wounds, or I’ll have you sedated for the rest of our journey.”

 

Part of Hux wanted to resist just to see what Mitaka would do. And really, if Hux really wanted to, he could no doubt use the Force to have Mitaka stand down. But why would he? After all…they were going to turn him in to the Resistance. How…serendipitous. The Force must have a sense of humor.

 

“A med droid will not be necessary, Mitaka.” Hux raised his good hand in surrender, “And I have no intention of fighting you. I have one arm, no weapon, and you outnumber me a dozen to one. I know how this would end.”

 

With that, Hux slowly knelt on the floor, settling himself on the floor. Mitaka’s blaster, previously leveled at his heart, was now positioned to point between Hux’s eyes.

 

“I must say, Mitaka, I’m impressed.” Hux murmured, “You’re shaping up to being quite the leader. You’re acting exactly as I would have.”

 

Mitaka grit his teeth, “Shut up, Hux.” He hissed, “I am nothing like you.”

 

“You’d be surprised.” Hux couldn’t help but smile as he allowed his eyes to close, drifting deep into meditation. After all, he had time to kill before they reached the Resistance.

 

* * *

 

 

The Falcon didn’t reach D’Qar until after many of the troops had already returned to base, and celebrations were already underway. Though, if anything, the sight of the iconic ship only served to revive the festive spirit.

 

For Leia, seeing that hunk of junk allowed her to let loose the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. After so many years, she still had the lingering fear that one day, she would see Han fly away…and he’d never come back.

 

As it was, other members of the Resistance were already swarming to the Falcon, eagerly awaiting the hatch to open. And Leia smiled as she saw her commander leading the way, a radiant smile spread across his face, and couldn’t shake the feeling that history was repeating itself in some way. Not that it was a bad thing, of course. It had been too long since Leia saw Poe smile the way he was, and if a former Stormtrooper brought forth that smile…well, she had no room to judge when it came to tastes in men.

 

Speaking of Finn, the young man’s face soon became visible as the Falcon’s hatch began to open, though the look on his face was enough to make Leia fear the worst. No…

 

“We need a med droid!” Finn called out, “Han’s hurt!”

 

The words were enough to cause chaos to erupt once more, jumping into action to render medical aid while Leia resisted the urge to swear. Of course that nerf herder would get himself hurt, she shouldn’t have let him go alone with those kids, someone should have been with him to make sure he stayed safe…besides Chewie, of course.

 

Seeing Han conscious as he was carried out on a stretcher was slightly comforting…slightly. The sight of him with bloody bandages was not reassuring.

 

“Could you not go one one assignment without getting your ass handed to you?” Leia sighed as Han’s stretcher was brought past her.

 

“I did fine, your worship.” Han smirked, though Leia could see just how weary his eyes were.

 

“I shudder to think what you’d look like if things hadn’t gone well.” She replied dryly.

 

Han didn’t respond like she expected him to. Instead, the smuggler grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her close. Leia had half a mind to tell him off for getting handsy in front of her subordinates. But then Han whispered a single sentence before he was hurried to Medical. A sentence that had Leia’s heart fluttering in hope.

 

_“He’s in his hiding place.”_

 

* * *

 

 

_It was dark and stuffy, and Ben could feel his legs falling asleep. But he couldn’t move, he didn’t want to be found. Instead, he hugged his knees tightly to his chest in attempt to make himself smaller._

 

_He could hear footsteps above his head, loud and thundering as they passed over him several times. His heart raced out of control each time they got louder over his head, and a wave of relief would crash over him when they muted once more._

 

_Then the footsteps got loud once more, and stopped. Ben held his breath._

 

_Light flooded Ben’s sight as the hatch was opened above him._

 

_“Found you!” His father beamed at him._

 

_Ben giggled, “You found me!” He smiled, reaching up for his father to help him out of the hidden compartment in the Falcon._

 

_Han lifted Ben up from the floor and set him on his feet, “I didn’t think you were strong enough to get that compartment open!”_

 

_“I used the Force!” Ben smiled, his smile gaping from missing teeth._

 

_“Of course you did.” Han chuckled, “Did I tell you about the time me, your uncle Luke, Chewie, and your namesake all crammed in there to hide from the Empire?”_

 

_“Uhuh!” Ben nodded, tugging at his father’s belt, “Tell me again!”_

 

Ben let loose a shaky breath as he curled up in that dark and dusty compartment. It was a tight squeeze for his long legs, but he made due. If anything, it made him appreciate the story when his father managed to fit three men and a Wookie in the same compartment. He hadn’t thought about it much before, but now the image seemed downright ridiculous.

 

The Falcon was eerily silent after the Resistance had gotten his father off of the ship and into Medical. No doubt he’d be drugged up for the next few hours while they treated his wound. And Chewie wouldn’t leave his father’s side, while Finn and Rey would be caught up in making friends in the Resistance…Ben sighed, trying his best to get comfortable. He’d be there for a while, no doubt.

 

Footsteps echoed above his head: slow and careful. Ben picked his head up, blinking into the darkness. No one should be on the Falcon now, they should all be celebrating their victory…

 

The footsteps grew louder overhead, before all was silent once more. And then, light flooded the compartment once more.

 

Ben blinked furiously as his eyes tried to adjust to the change in light, trying to focus on the figure above him. And when he did, his heart stopped. “Mom…”

 

His mother stared at him for several moments, as if not trusting her own eyes. Then she found her voice once more. “Ben..” She croaked, her voice cracking with emotion.

 

Ben found himself blinking once more, this time to try and banish tears from his eyes, “Mom…” He repeated.

 

It was all he could say before he was wrapped in his mother’s crushing embrace. Ben closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around around her smaller body and burying his face in his mother’s neck, inhaling the gentle floral fragrance that was still her favorite after so many years. He could feel a wetness blossoming against his robes, but he said nothing.

 

They sat in that cramp compartment for quiet some time, the only sounds coming from their own shaky breaths.

 

Ben recovered first, swallowing down the knot that had been growing in his throat. “Mom…I’m so sorry…”

 

“I know, Ben.” Leia choked out, wiping her eyes quickly. “I know…” She smiled softly, her eyes shining at him with something Ben couldn’t quite recognize, “But it’ll be okay now, Ben…you’re back…”

 

“How can you be so trusting…so sure?” Ben shook his head. His mother was not a fool, she wasn’t the type to naively trust someone. It was what made her such a great general…

 

She chuckled, “I’m sure because I can feel it Ben, I can feel a change in the Force…” She pressed a kiss to her temple, “When Luke swore there was good in your grandfather, I didn’t understand how he could be so sure…now I understand…”

 

“Mom…” He kept repeating that one word like a mantra, because, really, what else could he say? How could apologize for the agony he had caused for so many over the course of the years? How could he atone?

 

“I know, Ben.” His mother sighed as if sensing his doubts, and Ben could feel her being mingling with his own, “Things will be treacherous for a while…but for now, I just want to hold my son…”

 

Ben nodded, resting his head on her shoulder. He felt like a child once more, safe in his mother’s arms. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that the conflicts of the galaxy didn’t exist, that there was nothing wrong and he could just remain in the security of his mother’s embrace.

 

Though the rational side of him  was eager to remind him of the severity of the situation. That there were consequences to his past actions. That…no matter how much he so desperately wished, things couldn’t just magically be alright again, and go back to the way they used to be.

 

“The Resistance will not just welcome me with open arms, mom.” He began, weakly, “The things I’ve done…I’m a war criminal, and we can’t change that.”

 

His mother pulled back slowly, holding him at arm’s length, “You’re still my son, Ben…”

 

“I know…” Ben grimaced, “But that doesn’t change the fact that I was Kylo Ren.”

 

There was a moment in which his mother’s expression was unreadable, her brown eyes staring into his own as if judging the very character of his being. Then, after a heavy silence, she spoke.

 

“You’re right.”

 

With that, she withdrew her blaster, and fired.

 

* * *

 

 

It felt nice to meditate after the chaos that had surrounded the past few days, especially when he wasn’t meditating away the grief of committing genocide.

 

_You seem oddly at peace, my padawan, considering your state when last we spoke._

 

And it was especially nice to speak with his master once more.

 

_I am at peace, Master, all things considering. Starkiller is no more, but I’m afraid my position has been compromised, as Snoke has been aware of my Force presence for some time._

 

_I would not feel at peace in your situation, my padawan. But perhaps you know something I do not._

 

A smile tugged on Hux’s lips, _I do, Master. I have been “captured” if you will, by several defecting First Order officers, who plan to turn me over to the Resistance._

 

_How oddly convenient._

 

_The Force works in mysterious ways._

 

_How right you are, my padawan. But there’s something else that has your heart bursting with joy._

 

_Yes...Ben is on his way back to the Resistance with his father._

 

_...You’re sure?_

 

 _I saw it with my own eyes, master. He and his father were fighting on the same side...and I could feel the Light in him once more…_ He didn’t feel the need to mention that Ben had tried to kill him during this escapade...let Master Skywalker celebrate the return of his nephew. _Oh! And I found Rey! No doubt she is with Ben and the Falcon._

 

There was a pause in his master’s words, but he could feel the hope resonating within his old master, _If what you say is true...then I must return._

 

**_So there you are, General._ **

 

Hux felt a cold presence flood through his being, icy trendrils twisting around his mind and soul. _Snoke!_

 

 **_Did you really think you could escape me? That I would_ ** **let** **_you escape so easily?_ **

 

The icy feeling spread to his throat, and Hux could feel the Force around his neck constrict in an all-too-familiar way. The air couldn’t get in and out of his lungs, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before his vision began to fade.

 

His good hand reached up in vain attempt to pull away the non-existent hands strangling him, and the noises that escaped him were no doubt grotesque.

 

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Came a shout from one of the officers. Hux wasn’t exactly in any position to remember which one it was.

 

A rough hand shook Hux from his thoughts, his eyes bursting open to see Mitaka staring down at him intently.

 

“What are you trying to pull, Hux?” Mitaka frowned, and Hux would have laughed at the irony if he had the air to do so. Of all the officers, Mitaka should have been able to recognize the signs of a Force choke better than any of them.

 

**_So, you’re one of Skywalker’s pupils? My, you are full of surprises, General...you show infinitely more promise...you will become something great._ **

 

 _Get out of my head!_ Hux grit his teeth, still clawing at his neck in pure instinct.

 

The pressure on his neck eased, just enough for Hux to suck in a desperate breath of air, but the presence was still there.

 

**_Such power held underneath that ironclad control, General...we shall examine that in time...I will grant you leave now, but fret not, we shall be reunited once more very soon. My servants are on their way to collect you… they are eager to meet their new brother._ **

 

The icy presence and the choking hold on his neck vanished at once, leaving Hux gasping for breath and a room full of defecting First Order officers watching in him horror. But at the moment, Hux couldn’t be bothered.

 

Snoke’s servants...the Knights of Ren. The Knights of Ren were on their way.

 

“What the hell was that about, Hux?” Mitaka repeated the sentiment from earlier.

 

Hux gently massaged his raw throat, “Just a message...from Snoke.”

 

The room stiffened at the mention of the Supreme Leader.

 

“Snoke found us…” Murmured a petty officer in horror.

 

Hux shook his head, “Not you, just me.” Slowly, Hux got to his feet, “But we are all in very real danger: the Knights of Ren are on their way.”

 

A small blip sounded on their scanners, and Hux could feel his stomach drop like a stone. No...surely they couldn’t have found him that soon... had they been lurking in wait?

 

“We’ve got a small fighter on our tail.” Came the reply from the communications officer manning the scanner, “They’re coming in fast…”

 

“That’ll be the Knights, then.” Hux whispered, and he could have sworn he felt the icy presence at his throat once more. He couldn’t escape, could he?

 

“Why are the Knights of Ren after you?” It was surprising, hearing such a commanding shout come from Mitaka, but the words did have a bit more weight when there was a blaster behind them. “How did they find you?”

 

“Through the Force, how else, Mitaka?” Hux bit out a bit more harshly than he had intended, but the situation was a bit tense.

 

 _“Why are they after you!?”_ The former lieutenant roared.

 

And Hux, beaten and battered as he was, felt the last thread of his patience and control snap in a single, booming outburst. 

  
_“Because I’m a Jedi!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, I feel like the past two chapters were mostly character development. But I feel it was really important character development that needed to happen before any further action could take place.
> 
> And what do you think of Mitaka? I was seriously debating on making him a spy, but I think this suited the plot better. Granted, I'm still debating on how I want to use him in the future, but I like the idea of Meek Mitaka growing some iron balls and surprising everyone.
> 
> You guys have been so wonderfully supportive, I don't know if this fic would have gotten as far as it did without your help. As always, let me know what you think and what your thoughts are for next time. You'd be surprised how much inspiration I get from your comments!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know I'm a bit later than I usually am, today was a bit of a bust trying to be productive in writing (from the Internet not working to a UFO conspiracy theorist insisting on talking to me for thirty minutes straight at Starbucks).
> 
> As it is, I'm not that satisfied with this chapter, mainly because I intended for a lot more to happen. I'll try to make sure some action occurs in the next chapter. But...well, I'll let you read this chapter before we talk details.
> 
> Also, more fanart! This one comes from imnotaprincessimageneral from tumblr, who drew Ben teaching Rey Djem So while Braeda watched!  
> http://imnotaprincessimageneral.tumblr.com/post/139996343096/ben-should-you-really-be-teaching-the-younglings

Ben opened his eyes slowly, unaware he had ever closed them. It must have been a reflex, brought on by his mother’s blaster firing.

 

The compartment was relatively quiet, save for the sound of his mother’s heavy breaths and the low hiss of blaster radiation dissipating from its impact zone to the left of his ear.

 

“There.” His mother whispered, “Kylo Ren is dead.” She sighed, allowing her shoulders to droop, “I killed him.”

 

“Mom…” Ben repeated for what must have been the hundredth time. Could it really be that easy?

 

“How many people know that Kylo Ren and Ben Solo were the same person?” She replied, holstering her blaster.

 

Ben thought about it. Snoke knows, of course. Hux did know, but he wasn’t going to be telling anyone. His parents, his uncle…Rey and Finn…

 

Was that all that was left?

 

“Who have you told?” He found himself asking.

 

“No one.” His mother whispered, “At the time, I couldn’t bear to admit it out loud, then after…I didn’t want to drag up old memories.”

 

Logically, it would make sense that Ben could pretend that his identity as Kylo Ren had never existed. But deep doubt, he doubted that he could just…be Ben, without Kylo Ren lurking in the back of his mind. Already he could feel the doubt creeping from the corners of his consciousness: he hadn’t the strength to remain in the Light before, while under his uncle’s tutelage, what made this any different? How long before he brought forth another massacre? Could Ben Solo live?

 

Could Kylo Ren _die_?

 

The soft, yet firm voice of his mother pulled him from his spiraling thoughts, “Come on Ben.” She stood slowly, her petite body towering over where he sat cowering in the smuggling compartment, “Let’s go inside.”

 

Her hand extended him, the same gentle (if slightly callused) hand that had held his own throughout his childhood years, the same hand whose digits would wipe away boyhood tears with gentle gestures, or would bandage the wounds of youthful ventures gone awry.

 

There were more fine lines decorating her hand now (as well as some that were not so fine), and more calluses. And Ben’s own hand overwhelmed his mother’s in size as he took hold. But there was still strength in that hand as she pulled him to his feet, as she pulled him towards the Falcon’s exit.

 

* * *

 

 

FN-2187 had never understood happiness. Sure, he understood the concept behind it. He just…never understood what it felt like. It wasn’t exactly something that was widely experienced among the Stormtrooper corp.

 

Sure, FN-2187 had felt satisfaction in a good day’s work, in bettering himself in various fields, it was a fitting self reward for his hard work and dedication. He had felt contentment in his ranks, even if he never felt truly accepted by his comrades. He had felt pride in being named part of the FN-corps…even if he had become quickly disillusioned with the cause.

 

But happiness…what was happiness? What was it supposed to feel like? What would cause one to be happy? Could he be happy? Did he have the ability?

 

FN-2187 most likely did not.

 

Finn, however…surrounded by members of the Resistance, coming off the high of a mission well done, being reunited with Rey and finding her safe and sound…being with Poe again…Finn understood happiness. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, he was exhausted as he came down from his adrenaline rush, he was hungry, and he probably needed a ‘fresher desperately…but he was happy.

 

“That was an incredible shot, Poe!” Finn grinned as Poe slung his arm around Finn’s shoulders (Finn could feel the warmth radiating from Poe through his jacket and the flight suit, though he still shivered…).

 

Poe, using his free hand to brush sweat soaked hair from his face, chuckled, “How did you know I made the last shot on the oscillator?”

 

From where she was perched on a box of spare parts, Rey smiled, “He didn’t.”

 

“Well who else would it be?” Finn chuckled awkwardly in reply. To be honest, Finn didn’t know any of the other pilots well enough to know if they could have made the shot or not. He had just…assumed it would be Poe because…why wouldn’t it be?

 

“Very true.” Poe laughed, “But there’s no way any of us could have landed the finishing blow without you to lower the shield, Finn.”

 

Finn could feel a rush of warmth in his cheeks at Poe’s words, and he wasn't sure why. “I’m just glad I could help…”

 

“You probably saved an entire system.” Poe nodded, leaning back on a makeshift bench of supply crates (and dragging Finn with him), “So let’s hear all about you two and your heroic adventure.”

 

“Well it’s not that impressive sounding…” Finn mumbled softly, “Han, Chewie and I just held Phasma at gunpoint and forced her to lower the shields…then we threw her in the trash compactor…”

 

There was a series of moments in which both Poe and Rey simply watched Finn, their expressions unreadable. Then, a snort sounded from Poe, followed by a small laugh from Rey. Before long, both were lost in raucous laughter, pulling Finn into the mix soon enough.

 

“You threw the Captain of the Stormtrooper forces into a trash compactor!” Poe wheezed between laughs, resting his head on Finn’s shoulder. “I love it!”

 

Rey smiled, “I wish I could have seen that!”

 

Poe raised a curious eyebrow, “I thought Finn and Han saved you from being tortured?”

 

Finn was quick to shake his head, “Rey had already gotten herself out of her cell and was running around the corridors when we finally caught up with her.” He paused. Now that he thought about it… He turned his attention to Rey, “How did you manage to escape?”

 

Rey froze, the smile on her face falling slightly, and Finn could practically feel…trepidation radiating off of Rey. Was she scared? Why?

 

Rey’s eyes turned downward, looking at the floor, “I…I had help…”

 

“Help?” Poe frowned, sitting upright once more, “What do you mean by that?”

 

“Well, you see…” Rey paused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “There was this officer…”

 

The word “officer” had the hairs on the back of Finn’s neck standing on end. He knew what the officers of the First Order could be like…he didn’t like the idea of one coming in contact with Rey. “What did he do to you, Rey?” He croaked.

 

“He didn’t do anything…” Rey shook her head, “It’s just…he knew me…he knew my name…and he said he knew me when I was a child…”

 

Poe raised an eyebrow, “Was he from Jakku as well?”

 

Rey shook her head again, slower this time,“No, that’s just it…there was something about him that told me he was trustworthy…that I knew him, even if I couldn’t remember…and he knew the Force.”

 

Finn raised an eyebrow. There was a title given to those in the First Order who were Force users: the Knights of Ren. “Rey, I think you might have been mistaken.”

 

“No, I’m not!” She insisted, hands balled up in fists, “He showed me…he showed me how to use the Force to make the guard do what I wanted him to.”

 

“Ah, the Jedi mind trick.” Poe nodded slowly. When the other two turned to look at him, he shrugged, “At least, that’s what we non-Force users call it.”

 

“That doesn’t make sense…” Finn murmured, shaking his head slowly before turning his attention back to Rey, “Why would a First Order officer know the Force? Why would he help you escape?”

 

Rey stilled and, for several moments, she said nothing. From the minimal expression on her face, Finn could see that she was searching…though for what, Finn could not know.

 

“He said…he said he had been helping me since I had been a little girl.” She whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the revelry in the background, “And…he told me to give General Organa his love when I saw her.”

 

“An officer who knows General Organa?” Finn was only getting more and more confused. Who could that be? “Did he give you a name?”

 

“Braeda.” Rey answered immediately, “He said if anyone should ask, to give the name Braeda.”

 

Finn sighed, “There is no Officer Braeda in the ranks of the First Order.”

 

“And do you know all of the names of First Order officers?”

 

“Yes.” Finn nodded, “At those above the station lieutenant at our assigned vessel…they were very insistent about in the corps…”

 

Finn could feel Poe’s hand rest heavily on the back of his neck, a gentle squeeze coming from the pilot’s rough hand, no doubt meant as a silent comfort. And Finn could feel the tense muscles of his neck relaxing under Poe’s ministrations.

 

“None of this makes sense…” Finn found himself whispering. It wasn’t so much as a statement for either Rey or Poe to respond to, just a verbal reflection of Finn’s inner thoughts.

 

“I hear you, buddy.” Poe’s brow furrowed, “This all sounds off…Do you have a description of the officer? Maybe the general can shed some light on the situation.”

 

Finn snorted before he could stop himself, “I think the general has her hands full with Kylo Ren at the moment.”

 

Poe pulled away from Finn abruptly, looking at him in shock, “What does Kylo Ren have to do with the general?”

 

“Well, turns out Kylo Ren’s real name is Ben Solo.” Rey muttered, resting her chin in her hand, “And he may have come back with us…”

 

“What?” There was a harsh edge to Poe’s voice that Finn had never heard before, and Finn could practically feel the pilot’s heart rate skyrocket, “Why would you bring him here? Are you _crazy_?”

 

“I assure you, Commander Dameron, we’re all quite sane.”

 

The three froze, slowly turning their attention to the petite, but still dominating, presence of General Organa.

 

The General looked at Rey’s direction before looking Finn in the eye, “Is there anyone else you’ve told about Ben?”

 

Finn suddenly felt like he was standing before Phasma giving a report, “No Ma’am…”

 

“I trust in the future, you will exercise more…discretion.”

 

“Of course Ma’am…sorry Ma’am…” Definite flashbacks to his days training under Phasma.

 

The General nodded slowly, “But, as it is, I do need to speak with the three of you in my office concerning our…little secret…”

 

Poe stood slowly, “Now, General?”

 

“Of course, Commander, while everyone else is distracted.”

 

* * *

 

 

_It was time._

 

_He had recovered from his wounds, a new arm crafted from the best designs that General Organa and the Resistance could afford. Braeda was still learning to adjust to his flesh arm’s absence, and learning to control the various gears and circuits of his new mech arm with the same natural movement. It was uncanny, just how realistic his new arm looked, until the synthesized silicate skin that covered the mech. But Braeda could sense the truth through the Force, and how his arm lacked the Force’s natural presence._

 

_“You don’t have to do this, Braeda.” The General’s gentle voice pulled Braeda from his musings of his arm._

 

_Slowly, Braeda looked down at the small woman, his blue eyes meeting her brown eyes (Ben’s brown eyes), “I’m not afraid, General.” His voice sounded more like cold steel in his own mind, but for what he must do, he must be cold. Cold, calculating, and sharp. “I will retrieve Ben, and I will stop the First Order.”_

 

_General Organa reached up and rested her hand on his natural shoulder, “I know you will…” She murmured. Braeda could see the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. “Be safe…”_

 

_Braeda didn’t answer. He couldn’t promise her he could do that._

 

_“It’s time, Braeda.”_

 

_It was the voice of his master, this time, that drew Braeda’s attention. With slow, measured movements, Braeda turned away from the general and faced his master. Perhaps for the last time._

 

_His master’s icy blue eyes held little of their former warmth, replaced by the same cold fire that Braeda no doubt held in his own. In his hand, Braeda could see a small pair of shears._

 

_“Remember your training, my padawan.” Master Skywalker began, “It will be the only thing that may be able to protect you.”_

 

_“Of course, Master.” Braeda replied, bowing his head low before his master. He could feel his master’s hand brush the side of his head, his fingers carefully grasping the base of his padawan’s braid._

 

_Braeda closed his eyes as the snip of the shears sounded near his ear, only to open them once more to see his master’s hand retreat once more, with a red braid in hand._

 

_He let loose a shaky sigh. Ben may have taken his arm, but he couldn’t help but wonder if Master Skywalker had taken a larger portion of his being._

 

_His master cradled Braeda’s head in his hands, “May the Force be with you, Braeda.” Master Skywalker murmured softly, bringing their foreheads to touch._

 

_Braeda didn’t say anything for a long while, simply reveling in the comfort of his master’s presence. There was no telling if he would ever feel this presence again._

 

_“And with you, Master.”_

 

It was not easy, being a spy. For nearly a decaded and a half, Hux had trained himself to respond to a name that was not his, adopt mannerisms that were not his, a history that was not his, and ideals that were not his. There were times that Hux had to remind himself that no, he was not, in fact, Brendol Hux II; that he was not, in fact, a loyal officer of the First Order; that he was not, in fact, the military leader of the galaxy’s "only hope for order".

 

But if there was one thing Hux could pride himself in during his time as a spy (if a spy could be proud of any aspect of their work), it was the fact he had never faltered in his role. He was sure that the only reason Snoke had discovered him was because of his Force presence (and no doubt the agony of Hosnian Prime’s destruction). But he had never revealed any aspect of the identity of Padawan Braeda.

 

So it was strange that Hux had simply proclaimed his allegiance to the Jedi Order for all present on that stolen carrier ship to hear.

 

Apparently, the rest of the defectors seemed just as shocked with Hux’s outburst, staring at him dumbfounded.

 

“You’re a what?” Rodinon’s voice cut through the silence, but not through the confusion.

 

Several pairs of eyes darted back and forth from one officer to the next, each searching for the answer to Rodinon’s question.

 

Mitaka’s eyes, however, never left Hux.

 

“You son of a bitch.” He growled, dark eyes narrowing as he gripped his blaster all the tighter. “You’re a Force-user…I should have known…”

 

Hux couldn’t help it: he snorted, “There was no way you would have known, Mitaka.” Sure, Mitaka was a good officer, but Hux had kept his identity a secret no doubt since Mitaka was a child. Hux would have been dead long ago if a lieutenant could figure out his secret.

 

The former lieutenant shook his head, “There was always something off about you, Hux. Especially when you were around Ren…should have figured it would have been the same damn thing.”

 

“Are you saying you’re one of those cultists?” The question came from one of the younger crewmen (Thanisson, his meticulous mind supplied before he realized). The poor young man looked terrified at the thought. “I don’t believe it…”

 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult.” Hux closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling through his nose. Well, if there was one thing that could be said about the First Order, their use of propaganda and public relations was top notch…

 

Rodinon shook his head, “If you’re one of those Force-fanatics, then why are the Knights of Ren after you? You fight for the same side!”

 

“No, we do _not_!” Though Hux knew very well that the young officers were simply responding to propaganda that no doubt had been spoon fed from infancy, he couldn’t help but be offended at being considered as the same ilk as the Knights of Ren. But, unfortunately, he didn’t have time to be offended. “Look, I would be more than happy to explain to you the philosophy of the Force after we’re out of danger.” Hux bit out, “As it is, if the Knights of Ren catch up to us, no doubt I’ll be taken to Snoke to be tortured into submission, and you all will be slaughtered on sight.”

 

There was something about the word “slaughter” and its variants that tended to get people's attention, and these officers were not immune to the power of implication. And almost immediately afterward, Hux could feel their panicked thoughts beneath the surfaces of their minds.

 

Hux didn’t have time to deal with panic. He turned to Mitaka, “Tell me this ship has a hyperdrive.”

 

Mitaka grit his teeth, “You know it doesn’t.”

 

He did know. He knew all the ships of the First Order, and which ones were meant for intergalactic travel and which ones were not. “Kriff.” Hux sighed heavily, running his good hand through his hair, “And there’s no way we can out run a fighter…”

 

“And don’t even ask if we have a weapons system on this ship.” Mitaka muttered, “This is a supply ship we stole from the cargo bay.”

 

Hux let loose a sardonic chuckle, “I figured that for myself.” His eyes turned toward the scanner, “Do we know what type of fighter it is? Or if it’s a fighter at all?”

 

Thanisson rushed back to the ship’s scanner, examining the readings, “It’s a fighter all right…though it’s not one of the standard TIE series, it looks like it has modifications.”

 

Of course it would, if it belonged to the Knights of Ren. But if it was a fighter… “But it is the size of a fighter? It’s not part of the Sentinel class?”

 

The Petty Officer didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting back to Mitaka. If they hadn’t been in mortal danger, Hux might have been annoyed that the officers’ loyalties had shifted so quickly from him to Mitaka.

 

“Just tell him what he needs to know, Thanisson!” Mitaka hissed, “We don’t have time to be going back and forth.”

 

Thanisson nodded, “It’s a fighter, a modified TIE Interceptor by the looks of it.”

 

“Thank you.” Hux nodded, his mind already whirring as fast as he could stand in order to piece together a plan. It was just one Knight then…no doubt it was one who simply happened to be the closest to them. The others were no doubt on their way, but this was the first one to reach them. Hux could deal with one…he’d find a way…

 

Mitaka glared at Hux, “I still don’t trust you.” He shook his head.

 

“That’s fine, just let me save all of our lives first.” Hux muttered, “We all know the TIE series aren’t meant to hold many people. That means there’s only one Knight of Ren after us…maybe two if the Force wants to laugh at us.”

 

Rodinon looked back from his station, “How many Knights of Ren are there?”

 

“Counting Kylo Ren, there were seven.”

 

Mitaka raised an eyebrow, “Were?”

 

Hux nodded, “Kylo Ren is dead.” Perhaps not technically, but he was no longer in play for the First Order or Snoke. And it made Hux want to grin (though no doubt that would only serve to alarm the already skittish defectors).

 

“One Knight or seven, that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t outrun the fighter, and we have no weapons systems.” Rodinon frowned, “How does this help us at all?”

 

“Chart a course for the nearest planet with a hospitable environment.” Stepping out further onto the deck, Hux could feel his former rank of general thrumming through his being. This is what they needed, a clear plan and a firm hand to guide it, “We’ll land there and take shelter. We’re no match if this were come down to a aerial fight, but…we may stand a chance planetside.”

 

“And what’s stopping them from blowing us up when we land?” Mitaka raised an eyebrow, stepping up beside Hux on deck so they were shoulder to shoulder.

 

Hux sighed, “Snoke wants me alive. In order for that to happen, whoever is in the TIE will have to collect me somehow. Blasting the entire ship to bits would not please Snoke in the slightest.”

 

“So they won’t shoot us?” Rodinon raised an eyebrow, “Why land at all?”

 

“Because we have no idea if that TIE is equipped with an electromagetic pulse cannon.” Mitaka snapped, “And I’d rather take my chances on solid ground than drifting through space. Do as he says!”

 

The officers manning navigation were quick to get to work, and everyone inside could feel the cargo ship lurch as it changed direction suddenly.

 

Getting the ship planetside would be a good start, but Hux wasn’t about to let that be his only plan. “Thanisson, are you manning the communications as well?”

 

The blond only looked away from scanners to meet Hux’s gaze for a split second before returning to work, “Yes.”

 

Hux noted that the lack of “sir” was the petty officer’s own version of defiance, “I need you to send a communication.”

 

Mitaka frowned, “A communication? What kind of communication?”

 

“A distress signal.” Hux replied, turning his attention back to Thanisson, “Open communication to access point 2.521.975.211.981.052.519.83…” He saw the petty officer hesitate, unsure whether to obey, “…Please.” He added.

 

“That’s a very specific access point.” Mitaka murmured.

 

“It’s a very specific person I’m trying to reach.” Hux replied, “And perhaps the only person in the entire galaxy who hates the Knights of Ren more than I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

The General’s office, as it turned out, was a bit of a misnomer. Finn knew offices, he had been called in to Captain Phasma’s enough, not to mention the few times he had been called for mild reconditioning. And General Organa’s office…was no doubt a converted storage room. Then again…considering the other differences between the First Order and the Resistance, he could be mistaken.

 

And milling about the office, examining what were no doubt important documents, was Kylo Ren. Though in all honesty he didn’t look much like the Master of the Knights of Ren anymore. The black garments he had worn on Starkiller were gone, replaced with a plain beige shirt and brown pants, neither of which seemed meant to fit him. The only article of clothing he maintained, it seemed, were his boots.

 

As it was, Kylo Ren…or Ben…whatever his name was, seemed to find the floor mystifying, as he stared at it with the intend to discover its mysteries. His eyes flitted over to them as they made their way into the office, only to quickly sink back to the floor as Poe entered in last.

 

Though despite Ren looking so different that he usually did, Poe seemed to recognize the other man all too well, if the way the pilot’s fist made a quick connection with Ren’s face was any indication.

 

“Poe!” General Organa fumed as she rushed forward.

 

Ren held a hand out to stop the general, though Finn could tell it was not the Force that stopped the general from giving Poe a dressing down. The extended hand slowly reached to his nose, pulling away the smallest drops of blood.

 

“I know you could have hit me harder than that, Dameron.” Ren muttered, touching his nose again.

 

Poe grit his teeth, flexing his hand, “I could have, but I’m sure if your nose swelled any bigger, you wouldn’t be able to walk upright.”

 

“That and you wouldn’t want to risk breaking your hand and not being able to fly.” Ren replied dryly, paying no mind to his bleeding nose.

 

“Boys, if you are both quite done!” General Organa stepped between Ren and Poe, her hands forcefully pushing against their chests.

 

Ren didn’t move, but Poe stepped back, returning to Finn’s side and making sure to place himself between Ren and Finn.

 

“Now that we have settled that,” The General brushed away a nonexistent hair from her face, “I want to make it very clear that, for the exception of my husband in Medical, and my brother who is who knows where,the people in this room are the only ones who know that Ben was Kylo Ren.”

 

“Was?” Poe frowned, “General, are you trying to telling me that Kylo Ren, the man who tortured me not even a few standard days ago, just…” he flung his hands in the air dramatically, “changed his mind?”

 

“That’s almost exactly what I said…” Rey said softly.

 

“Be that as it may, Commander.” General Organa brought herself to her full height, “I’m not trying to tell you anything: I am telling you.”

 

“What if this is a trap?” Poe shook his head, “This could be a ploy to destroy the Resistance, or worse, get to you!”

 

“While I’m glad for your loyalty to me and the Resistance, I assure you that is not the case.” The general nodded sagely.

 

“And you just expect me to trust him?”

 

“No, I expect you to trust me.”

 

A small movement out of the corner of his eye pulled Finn’s attention away from Poe and the general’s argument. Ren, it seemed, had become very fascinated with the display of _Starkiller_ ’s plans that decorated the wall behind the general’s desk. Finn watched as Ren stood stone still for several moments before reaching out a hesitant hand as if to touch the plans. It was an odd gesture, and Finn couldn’t decide if the gesture was reverent…or fearful.

 

“…where did you get these plans?” He asked softly, turning to face Poe and the general.

 

Both arguing combatants stopped in their conversation to turn their attention to Ren. “What do you mean?” Poe raised an eyebrow, “We stole them, of course.”

 

Ren shook his head, “No, there is no way you could have stolen those plans. Only one man on all of _Starkiller_ had the complete plans. These are not something that could have been downloaded on a data-raid.”

 

Poe opened his mouth again, no doubt to argue more, but General Organa beat him to it, “You’re right, Ben.” She nodded, “The plans were given to me.”

 

Ren’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Given to you? Impossible.”

 

“It is when you have a spy in the First Order.”  

 

Even Poe seemed taken aback by that information, “A spy, General?” He blinked, “Since when did we have a spy?”

 

A tired sigh escaped General Organa, “We’ve had a spy for more than a decade, and he’s been the one delivering all the important information for our operations, including the original location of the map and the _Starkiller_ plans.” She rubbed her temples, “I haven’t been able to keep in close contact with him, but I’ve been able to figure out from the data he sends that he must have climbed the ranks to be a powerful officer.”

 

The mention of an officer helping the Resistance jolted Finn into remembering the conversation before coming into the office. He quickly turned to Rey, “Rey, you think that might be your guy?”

 

Rey’s eyes brightened at the thought, “Yes! General,” She rushed forward to the general’s side, “An officer helped me escape my cell while I was captive on _Starkiller_.”

 

“So he was on _Starkiller_ …” The general seemed more heartbroken at the knowledge than relieved.

 

Rey nodded, “He said to tell you that Braeda sends his love.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“What did you say?”_

 

All eyes were back on Ben at his outburst, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he crossed the room from where the Starkiller plans were displayed, rushing to Rey’s side and grabbing her arm roughly, “ _What_ did you _say_?”

 

Surely he had misheard her, or she had been mistaken in her words. She couldn’t possibly mean…it wasn’t _possible_ …

 

“Ben, stop it!” His mother was quick to pull him away from Rey, who quickly moved to Finn and Dameron’s side. Both men were quick to move to keep her between them, as if to protect from either side.

 

“Mother, she was one of Uncle Luke’s younglings. She’d know if it was…if…” Unable to finish his sentence, Ben turned his gaze back to his mother, “Please tell me it’s just a coincidence…that it’s just a similar name…”

 

A long pause stretched between mother and son, though Ben could feel his mother’s answer before she ever began to shake her head.

 

It was like all the blood in his body had been replaced by a Hoth snowstorm, “No…I killed him…”

 

His mother shook his head, “No Ben…Rey and Braeda survived…though with Braeda, it was just barely.” She took his hands in her own, “He spent nearly a standard month in a Bacta tank, and another month adjusting to a mech arm. But the moment he could use his arm without difficulty, he volunteered to be a spy.”

 

Ben had long since stopped listening to his mother’s words, his mind unraveling at two words.

 

Braeda. Survived.

 

Braeda was alive.

 

Braeda had become a spy for the Resistance.

 

Braeda was a powerful officer for the First Order.

 

Braeda…had been on _Starkiller._

 

Heart pounding in his ears, Ben looked back once more at the _Starkiller_ plans.

 

Only one man had those plans.

 

One man…with red hair.

 

One man, who was all order and control, who dared to speak out against Ren, who did not flinch in the face of Ren’s rage.

 

One man, whose red hair was combed meticulously in place, each detail in place for the role he played.

 

One man, whose face was as white as the surface as Hoth from years spent on starships, without a system’s sun to lavish kisses of light freckles across his skin.

 

One man, who used his coat and uniform as a way to hide his lithe and slender frame

 

One man, whose body was hail and whole at first glance.

 

One man, whose mind Ben had _never_ been able to crack.

 

Ben wasn’t sure when he hit the ground, or when the other’s began shouting his name in alarm; only that the steel flooring of his mother’s office felt warm in comparison to the ice he felt flowing through his veins.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ben!”

 

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

 

“Do we need to get him to Medical?”

 

The frantic shouts within General Organa’s office would never had been heard over the sounds of celebration that dominated the rest of the base, a single moment of panic swallowed by overwhelming joy.

 

And if no one outside could hear the panic in the office, then there was no chance of the panicked office hearing the small chime of Leia Organa’s datapad as it sat on her desk. Nor could anyone read the incoming message.

 

_Mayday_

_Escaping FO, KoR in pursuit._

_Combat imminent; Status: wounded._

_Please send Help._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, things tend to end dramatically for these two, huh?
> 
> Oh hey, was that some Stormpilot interaction I saw briefly? I promise there will be more of these two, I justed needed to get to the part of the plot where, you know, they were together. And sorry if Poe seems a bit...combative, but let's face it, Ren did straight up torture him a few days ago and his general is basically saying "No he's good, I promise" I think Poe's allowed to play the role of skeptic.
> 
> And yes, I do plan on having a Braeda vs. KoR next chapter (I thought I could squeeze it in this chapter, but there was no way I could fit it in without rushing it, and that's just not something I can rush).
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Thank you all for your support


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late guys, but my luck yesterday was crap. My power went out when I had a thousand words left for this chapter, and we're under flash flood warning. The power is still out, but I'm actually posting this from a Starbucks.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the delay, enjoy!

There was a tactical advantage to building Starkiller in the Unknown Regions. With so little traffic, there was no one to stumble upon the weapon’s construction until it was too late to form any sort of opposition. However, being in such a remote stretch of the universe also meant that there were very few planets nearby to escape to, and none that offered a…friendly habitat.

As it was, they would be forced to land on the nearest ice planet. Though Hux couldn’t help but smile a bit when he saw the planet appear on their scanners, he resisted the urge to laugh as they broke into Ilum’s atmosphere. No need to alarm the rest of the crew with thinking he had gone mad. Besides, the humor would have been lost on them.

“No response for the distress message.” Thanisson turned from his seat to look at both Mitaka and Hux.

Hux shook his head, “I would have been surprised if there was a response. But I don’t doubt she got the message.” And he didn’t doubt it. The General always got his messages, the war would have been over years ago if she didn’t.

But that wouldn’t mean anything if General Organa couldn’t find him… With a quick hand, Hux reached to unbutton the topmost buttons of his uniform. Which, admittedly, was difficult with only one functioning arm; but he managed.

“What the hell are you doing, Hux?” Mitaka frowned, grabbing Hux’s arm before he could wrestle another button open. The former lieutenant had a stronger grip than Hux expected him to have, gripping his wrist nearly to the point of pain.

“I need to get to my arm, Mitaka.” Hux murmured, meeting the younger man’s dark eyes. “So you could either watch me struggle to get my arm free, or you could help me.”

General and Lieutenant stared at each other for perhaps a moment in time, Mitaka’s grip still iron tight around Hux’s wrist. Then, slowly, Mitaka released his wrist, his free hand moving to continue to free Hux’s buttons, “This better not be one of your tricks, Hux.”

“Trust me, if this were a trick, you’d never suspect.” Hux chuckled, shrugging his good arm out of his jacket while Mitaka gingerly moved the sleeve down his disabled arm.

Once Hux was free of his jacket, he allowed the heavy garment to drop to the floor, leaving only his undershirt covering his chest. Ignoring the chill from the ship’s crisp environment, Hux reached his hand to the wound from Kylo Ren’s lightsaber, feeling the melted silicate around the ruined circuits. As useless as his arm was as an arm, it still had a purpose to fill.

Hux carefully felt the edges of the wound, his fingernails catching the edge of the silicate. Once he was able to peel away the scorched polymer from the melted metal, he hastily ripped at the silicate, peeling it over his shoulder and down his bicep.

“Kriff!” It was Rodinon again, judging by the shock in his voice as Hux continued to peel away his skin.

Mitaka, however, watched with an unreadable expression. “It’s mech.” It wasn’t so much of a question.

Hux nodded, “It’s mech. Which is why I’m not in serious pain at the moment.” Nimble fingers danced over the gears of his right arm. The mechanisms had long since gone cold from disuse, as Hux had expected, but other than the melted circuits, his arm had avoided any serious damage.

Thank the Force.

“That’s not standard issue mech, either.” Mitaka murmured, his eyes moving quickly over the inner workings of Hux’s arm, “You’ve modified it.”

“That I have, Mitaka.” Hux scoffed, “Have you always been this observant, Mitaka, and I’ve just never noticed?”

“You were a bit busy destroying entire systems.”

Hux winced at the barb, but really, how could he respond to that? Instead, he focused on the small module lodged firmly behind the pistons that served as the medial head of his tricep. It was small, hardly bigger than a datachip, and difficult to access around the piston, but once Hux managed to get his slender fingers through the mechanisms, he was able to flick the activation switch.

Mitaka raised an eyebrow as the module began to blink a muted green light slowly, “What was that?”

“A homing beacon.” Hux replied, “No good in sending a distress signal if help can’t find us, now is it?”

The ship lurched sluggishly as it touched down in the frozen tundra of Ilum, but the crew on sway slightly under the motion. Slowly, the sounds of the engine died down, leaving only the roar of the snowstorm outside and the quiet beep of Hux’s homing beacon as their only noise.

“Who are you in contact with, Hux?” Mitaka finally asked, “And who did we send a distress message to?”

Hux smirked, “Would you believe me if I said that distress message went directly to General Organa’s personal datapad?”

The crew stared at him for a long while, their faces etched with either confusion, horror, or stunned disbelief. Not that Hux blamed him. It felt strange, being so forthright with the truth.

“Normally, I’d say never in a millennium.” Mitaka shook his head, “But knowing you Hux, you would have all the information to win this war, but you’d save it until it was dramatically convenient for you to use it.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.” Hux was beginning to like this new version of Mitaka, if only he would just stop pointing a blaster at him.

Mitaka scoffed, “Take it as an insult, you manipulative bastard.”

“Fair enough.” Hux murmured, “We don’t have much time before whoever is in that TIE catches up with us, we need to prepare for combat. What weapons do you all have?”

There was a pause as each of the defecting officers looked at one another, as if daring each other to answer. Then, slowly, the officers pulled their side arms from their holsters.

Hux had to stifle a groan. Only officer side arm pistols. Which didn’t do a lot of good for the lower ranked like petty officer Thanisson, who had no side arm at all. And the only rifle in sight was currently in Mitaka’s arms.

Then again, he couldn’t exactly blame any of them. None of these officers had actually seen combat in a real life setting, only simulations. Products of the Academy, each and every one of them. Perfect.

A slow sigh escaped Hux before he could stop himself, his eyes drifting shut as his mind began to plan once more. The blasters wouldn’t matter against a Knight of Ren, he knew that much. There was only one weapon that could give them any sort of hope against Snoke’s agent.

“Please tell me you brought the lightsaber.” Hux opened his eyes to meet Mitaka’s once more. “Tell me I wasn’t the only gift you had intended to give to the Resistance.”

The corner of Mitaka’s mouth twitched slightly, telling Hux everything he needed to know. He had expected as much, few things would be considered a bigger trophy than the lightsaber of Kylo Ren. What he hadn’t expected, however, was for Mitaka’s hand to drift to his belt, retrieving said weapon without a word. How had he not noticed before?

Hux reached for the lightsaber, only for Mitaka to pull it just out of reach.

“You try anything funny, Hux, and you’ll never make it to the Resistance.” Mitaka warned, keeping a tight grip on the lightsaber with one hand and the blaster with the other.

“If I don’t try something, none of us will make it to the Resistance.”

A sardonic chuckle sounded from Mitaka, “Well, you may very well be right about that, Hux.” He conceded, pressing the cool metal of the lightsaber into Hux’s hand, hesitating only a moment before relinquishing his grasp on the weapon. Hux slowly stepped away from his former lieutenant, making sure he was out range before he ignited the weapon.

He was more than aware of the fact that Kylo Ren’s lightsaber was not a stable weapon. He had seen it up close plenty of times to recognize the ragged edges of the blade, and the fact that the cross guard exhausts were not for aesthetic purposes. But to hold it in his hand as it throbbed with life…it felt ill. Perhaps the fall with Hux had damaged it, perhaps it had always been so unstable, but…Hux wasn’t sure if he was holding a lightsaber, or a thermal detonator.

Hux smirked as the gears of his mind finally began spinning at full speed once more, only to stop as the tell-tale whoosh of the TIE fighter sounded overhead. “He’s here…” He murmured.

He could feel the fear that radiated from each of the defecting officers. None of them had even faced life and death situations before Starkiller, and now they were about to face perhaps one of the most fierce warriors in the galaxy.

“Thanisson.” Hux quickly made up his mind. He couldn’t gamble on General Organa receiving his message quickly, or that his beacon would be picked up from the Resistance base, “I want you to open a com line with that data point, and keep broadcasting a Mayday until you get someone to answer.”

“But you said—”

“I know what I said.” Hux shook his head, “But this are extenuating circumstances.”

“Do as he says, Thanisson.” Mitaka commanded the young officer, causing the petty officer to nod and turn back to his control panel.

Hux hefted his grasp on the lightsaber, giving it a few test swings. It was awkward in his hand, but he’d have to make due… “When you establish a connection, Thanisson, you’ll be asked who gave you that data point.”

“Shall I tell them you gave it to me, General?”

“Kriff no.” Hux snorted, “If you do that, we’re all as good as dead. Just give her the name Braeda. She’ll know what it means.”

Mitaka raised an eyebrow, “Braeda?”

“I’m sure there are plenty of questions you have, Mitaka. But how about we save that for after I get us out of mortal peril?” Hux smirked as he made his way to the ship’s hatch.

The ex-lieutenant rolled his eyes, “You intend to fight against a Knight of Ren all on your own, with one arm?”

“Hopefully I won’t be on my own.” Hux admitted, “You any good with that thing?” He nodded toward the blaster.

Mitaka’s expression was unreadable, “I know you’ve seen my file, Hux. I’ve scored proficient in my marksmanship trials.”

“Well I’m not asking for your file, lieutenant.” Hux shook his head, “I’m asking you this: how good of a shot are you?”

The young man’s eyes flashed with a fire Hux wasn’t used to seeing.

“I’m an excellent shot.”

“Good.” The former general smiled, “Because I have an idea.”

* * *

 

_The pear tree in the courtyard was in bloom again, its delicate white blossoms inevitably finding their way into Braeda’s fiery hair as the two of them lounged underneath its shade one afternoon._

_“You look like an angel.” Ben murmured, not realizing he had spoken out loud_

_Braeda turned to look at Ben, who was fighting the raging blush on his cheeks and losing. But instead of laughing, Braeda smiled softly._

_Ben loved Braeda’s smile. It was a small gesture, never with any teeth, but it still conveyed all the same tender joy that most grins failed to. It never failed to make Ben smile in return, even if he hated how crooked his smile was._

_“I could say the same to you…” Braeda replied, his hand reaching up to dust the white petals from Ben’s own hair, only to linger against Ben’s cheek._

_“I love you.” The words burst forth before Ben could stop them. Though now they were free, Ben realized how true they were._

_Braeda’s smile faltered for a moment, his freckled cheeks burning with the blush Ben knew the older teen was self conscious of. Braeda’s slate eyes left his, and Ben began to doubt himself. He shouldn’t have said anything, he…_

_“I feel your doubt, Ben. Stop that.” Braeda shook his head, taking Ben’s hand in his own, “I love you too, you fool…”_

_Ben was about to open his mouth to protest, only to feel Braeda’s lips against his own. The kiss was gentle, like nearly all of Braeda’s gestures, the older caressing the younger’s lips with tentative movements, and Ben found himself sighing into the kiss, his eyes drifting shut._

_He could sink into that moment forever, but he reluctantly pulled away, opening his eyes._

_Only to find it was no longer Braeda smiling lovingly at him. Braeda’s gentle features melted away to reveal the harsh visage of General Hux._

_The General’s skin was snow white, his lips were pulled taught in a sneer, and his blue eyes were as cold as the steel he surrounded himself with._

_The General’s hands found their way around Ben’s neck, squeezing tightly._

_“You’re a traitor, Kylo Ren.” Hux’s voice felt like ice in Ben’s ear, “You’re nothing but a traitor.”_

_“No!” Ben screamed, clawing uselessly at the general’s gloved hands._

_“Yes!” Hux’s voice began to warp, rasping the same low notes Ben had heard so often in his sleep. It was Hux’s face snarling down at him, but it was Snoke’s voice that rang through Ben’s being. “You’ve betrayed your family, you’ve betrayed the First Order. There is no one safe from your treachery—”_

_“NO!” Ben’s voice was raw and hoarse as he cried out, his hands pushing through the Force to get Hux Snoke away from him._

_To his surprise, Hux stumbled away with ease, an uncharacteristically stunned expression on his face. It was only seeing the harsh red glow against the general’s pale features that Ben realized that his—no, Kylo Ren’s— lightsaber was protruding from Hux’s chest._

_And Ben watched in horror as, when the general fell slowly to the ground, his harsh face melted away once more, and Ben could once again see the freckles, the tousled hair, the gentle eyes._

_Braeda lay at Ben’s feet, shrouded in the general’s uniform, and bathed in the glow of the crimson lightsaber. But that gentle smile was still there._

_The pear blossoms were falling faster now, but they felt like ice against Ben’s skin. It was only as they began to blanket the earth around them, and the wind began to roar, that Ben realized that they truly were ice meant to bury them both._

_“Ben…”_

_The shock of Braeda’s voice brought Ben’s attention to his beloved’s face. The snowflakes were intermingled with the blossoms in Braeda’s hair, and dusted his cheeks, obscuring his freckles._

_“Ben…” Braeda whispered once more, before he turned his gaze away, looking off into the distance._

_Ben followed Braeda’s gaze, peering through the snowstorm that had begun to rage in earnest. Through the flurry of snow, Ben felt his heart drop to his stomach as he recognized the six black figures making their way to them. Black hands grabbed at Braeda, dragging him through the snow and deeper into their clutches._

_“Ben!” Braeda cried out, reaching out weakly to him._

_Ben frantically tried to grab at Braeda, only for the other to slip through his grasp with each attempt, “Braeda!”_

_“Ben!”_

“Ben!”

With a jolt, Ben sat upright, his skin drenched in a cold sweat. It took him a moment to realize that he was not, in fact, in the snow, but rather on the floor of his mother’s office. He was safe, he was home.

“Ben, you can’t do that to me, my heart won’t be able to take it.” His mother murmured, and Ben belatedly realized she had her arms around him, and that he was leaning into her for her warmth.

Numbly, Ben grasped his mother’s hand, “Braeda’s in trouble!”

His mother frowned, brow furrowed, “Ben, we don’t even know if Braeda survived Starkiller…”

Oh, didn’t Ben know about the likelihood of Braeda’s survival on Starkiller. If Braeda hadn’t survived, it would no doubt be his own fault.

“He’s alive…he has to be…” Ben murmured, climbing up on quivering legs, “I felt it…he’s in danger.”

“A few minutes ago, you didn’t even realize this guy was alive.” The voice of Poe Dameron quickly reminded Ben that he was not, in fact, alone in the office with his mother, “And now you can tell he’s alive and in danger?”

“Yes!” Ben shook his head, frustrated. His eyes drifted to Rey, still standing between Poe and Finn, “You didn’t feel him die, did you? When Starkiller imploded?”

The young woman froze, unused to being put on the spot (and no doubt still uneasy about Ben in general), but Ben didn’t allow his gaze to break from her. He needed confirmation from someone, especially the last person to see Braeda besides him.

It was in that tense moment of silence, that a small chime could be heard from across the room.

His mother slowly pulled away from Ben’s side, “That’s mine…” She murmured, more to herself than to inform anyone else in the room. After all, it was her office, it made sense that everything in it was also hers…

The occupants of the room watched dumbly as the general moved to her desk, her hand shakily reaching out to grab her datapad.

“There’s a message…” She carefully touched the datapad’s screen before letting loose a sigh of disbelief, “’Mayday, Escaping FO, KoR in pursuit. Combat imminent; Status: wounded. Please send Help.’ …That’s Braeda, no one else could get a message directly to my datapad…”

Ben felt, for the first time in years, the stirrings of hope in his chest. Braeda was alive…he hadn’t killed him: not at the temple, and not at Starkiller…

“So our spy is escaping the First Order.” Poe murmured, “But what does ‘KoR’ mean?”

“Knights of Ren…” Ben paled at the thought. It was just like his dream. And if Snoke had called in the Knights of Ren to capture Braeda…no, Ben couldn’t allow himself to dwell on such horrors. “Snoke sent the Knight of Ren after Braeda, which means he is in grave danger.”

“I’m well aware of that, Ben.” His mother replied, gripping her datapad tightly, “Braeda placed himself in grave danger years ago when he became a spy.”

“We can’t mount a rescue mission if we don’t know where to go.” Finn shook his head, “Even if we dashed out right now, we couldn’t find him in time.”

A loud beeping sounded from the datapad, followed by the mellow, lifeless drone of the computer, “Incoming transmission; pending acceptance.”

The office crew stepped closer to surround the desk, as if they could figure out the transmission through proximity.

“Braeda doesn’t send com transmissions…” Ben could see frown lines etching themselves on his mother’s face as she stared at the datapad in confusion, “But…who would know to contact me…”

“Do you think it’s safe, General?” Poe frowned, “Is the line secure?”

His mother shook her head, “No, but then again, if it is Braeda, this may be a risk we have to take…he’s just as valuable to the First Order as he is to us. It’ll be a race to see who gets to him first, and the First Order has a head start.” With that, she turned her attention back to the datapad, “Accept transmission.”

“Access granted.” The computer chimed, before opening the static-ridden com connection.

There was a moment when the line held nothing but static, which didn’t bode well for anyone’s nerves. Then—

“Is there anyone there? Please, we are under attack—”

“Someone is here.” By the way Ben could see his other standing up straight, her shoulders square, he could see that General Leia Organa was once again in command, “But who am I speaking to?”

Ben knew it wasn’t Braeda on the other end of the line. The voice was all wrong. But he tried not to let it crush his hope.

“…This is Ian Thanisson, and I…”

Ben grabbed his mother’s wrist when he heard the young man’s name, quickly mouthing ‘First Order petty officer’ to her as the man continued to speak. Her eyes met his, and she nodded in response.

“You want help, fine.” She replied, “But first, Thanisson, you need to tell me how a petty officer in the First Order came to have this datapoint.”

There was a harsh sound on the other end which sounded suspiciously like a hitch in the officer’s breath. Then, quickly, “I was told to give you the name Braeda, and that you would know what it means.”

Ben barely resisted the urge to grab the datapad from his mother’s hand and interrogate Thanisson himself about Braeda’s whereabouts. Barely.

His mother, on the other hand, merely gave a low hum of approval, “You’re right, I do know what it means. Where are you located, petty officer?”

“We’ve landed on the Northern hemisphere of Ilum…”

Ilum, of course! The snow, it all made sense now to Ben. And with Ilum being so close to where Starkiller had been…of course Braeda would go to Ilum…

“Alright, petty officer. Send me your coordinates, and we’ll retrieve you as soon as we possibly can. Stay alive until then.”

“We’ll try…” There was a dull howling in the background, and the static grew worse. Other voices could be heard in the background, faintly recognizable over the transmission.

“…he’s really going to fight while wounded…”

“We’re doomed…”

“…The TIE is doubling back. It’s gunna fire!”

The transmission stopped abruptly, leaving the occupants staring numbly at it for several moments.

Ben recovered first, “We need to get to Ilum!” He clenched his fists. He wasn’t going to lose Braeda again.

“We don’t know where—”

“I don’t care! I will get Braeda back!” Ben hissed, “I’ll fly the Falcon myself if I have to.”

“Well if you’re going, I’m going.” Rey nodded firmly.

“You’re all going.” His mother corrected, “This is a very sensitive mission, and you four are the only individuals who are aware of Braeda’s role as our spy. Take the Falcon and bring him back.”

“General, if there’s a battle going on, we may need more firepower.” Poe shook his head, “And no offense to the Falcon, but it’s definitely seen better combat days.”

Even Ben had to concede to the pilot’s point, as his mother nodded curtly.

“Take only your most trusted men, Commander.” She ordered, pointing a rigid finger at him, “Tell them only that they are to aid in the rescue and arrest of defecting First Order officers. Do not mention a spy.” She looked at them all, “I want you all off planet in less than fifteen minutes. Go, bring him home!”

* * *

 

Mitaka had been right about the TIE being equipped with an EMP cannon, as the pulse rocked the tiny craft before all power was lost. It was only a small bit of luck that they had begun to open the hatch before the closing mechanism halted, otherwise they would have all been trapped inside the ship until whatever Knight of Ren was hunting them came inside to get them.

As it was, there was only a small opening for Hux to squeeze himself through as he dropped to the snow. As his boots hit the icy tundra, Hux quickly tried to adjust balancing and using Kylo Ren’s lightsaber with only one hand. It wouldn’t be half as bad if his bad arm wasn’t hanging like dead weight from his shoulder. But he didn’t have time to make any corrections, he would simply have to adjust.

The TIE was landing now, and Hux walked towards it with slow, measured steps. The further he could keep the combat away from the defecting officers, the better. Less chance for collateral damage, and less chance of the Knight of Ren to use one as a hostage or human shield. Less chance of mess.

As the hatch to the TIE opened, Hux allowed himself to test his handling on the ill lightsaber once more. He’d have to watch the crossguards, he wasn’t used to those…

“So, Master Snoke was right: the little general has been keeping secrets from us. Now why would you do that, General Hux?”

The sound of the other man’s voice had Hux set on edge, but the sight of him, donned in black robes and mask, sent chills down his spine, though he tried to tell himself it was due to the snow. He would not cower before this man, or any of the Knight of Ren. He was not a child anymore, he felt no fear.

“You have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know me, but I know nothing about you.” Lies.

A dark chuckle sounded from beneath the other’s mask, “Caedus Ren, at your service, General.” The snow crunched heavily underneath Caedus’s boots as he lumbered forth, “And it looks like you have something of Master Kylo’s.”

Hux gripped the lightsaber all the tighter. If he never heard the name “Kylo Ren” again, it would be too soon, “I doubt Kylo Ren will be using this anytime soon, seeing as he’s dead.”

“Ah, I see.” Caedus laughed once more, mutated by his heavy mask, “So you’ll be calling me “master” soon enough.”

“Over my dead body.” Hux growled, settling himself into position. Caedus was larger than him, that was for sure, but there was no sense in gambling that his size would make him slow. He wouldn’t be able to use Soresu effectively against the Knight, even if he had both arms. His feet drifted into a Makashi starting stance as his good hand lifted the lightsaber to point at Caedus. Precision would be key, if this were to go well.

“Now now, Supreme Leader wouldn’t want that.” Caedus reached for his belt, withdrawing his lightsaber. Hux watched evenly as the larger man ignited both ends of the lightstaff. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you’re a little maimed. But for both of our sake, I’ll make this quick.”

“Please do, I’m getting rather sick of hearing your voice.”

That was certainly enough to get the other to lash out, and their duel began.

Caedus, it seemed, was a fond practitioner of Djem So, much to Hux’s frustration. He had hoped that the man’s size and ego would have had him favor Juyo, leaving him open for Hux’s own attacks. But apparently Kylo Ren taught his students well, as Caedus Ren blocked Hux’s precise attacks with ease before issuing his own devastating attacks.

The first time the two locked weapons, Hux was nearly forced to his knees as Caedus pressed down on his lightsaber. But he grit his teeth, determined to hold his position.

“Ah…I remember you…” Caedus hissed, bearing down more of his weight on the locked lightsabers, “The boy from the temple, I see it now. Red hair, one good arm…and those desperate eyes…” A dark laugh sounded from deep within Caedus’s chest, “Oh I’ll enjoy you for a long time.”

“Not on your life.” Hux hissed, delivering a harsh kick to the inside of Caedus’s knee before rolling away from the descending lightsaber. It was an underhanded tactic, to be sure, but Hux wasn’t exactly in the position to fight honorably.

So no good using Makashi.

By the time Caedus recovered from his knee (though there was a slight hobble to his steps), his next swings with twice as ferocious. Ah, there was the Juyo…

Hux didn’t bother trying to block the blows, instead leaping up into the air, his body flipping gracefully as he landed on the top of the TIE, though his feet slipped slightly on the snow-covered metal. His Ataru was a bit rusty, but hopefully his stamina would outlast Caedus’s.

And so they played cat-and-mouse, Caedus swinging heavy, fierce blows, and Hux deflecting them with light movements of leaping out of the way entirely, keeping himself out of the other man’s grasp. With each maneuver, they moved further and further into the snowstorm.

It was in a panic that Hux realized that he could no longer see the TIE or the supply ship where the defector were hiding through the snow flurries. How far were they? He needed to get back in range, he was too far—

Searing pain ripped through Hux’s side as Caedus’s lightsaber met its mark, causing him to stumble back several steps in delirious pain.

“You’d be wise to surrender now. I’ll be taking a limb next, and not the lame one.” Caedus gloated, spinning his lightstaff for show.

Hux grit his teeth, “I’d rather die than surrender.” He hissed, ignoring the pain that danced about his ribcage.

“Trust me, I can do worse than death.” Caedus laughed, charging once more.

And Hux charged as well. He didn’t have much time, if he was going to make his move, he would need to do it quick and hope the Force was more with him than it was with Caedus.

It was at the last moment, as Caedus was mid-swing in what no doubt would have been a blow to destroy Hux’s left leg, Hux leapt into the air, allowing his body to arc slowly over Caedus’s charging form. As his body flipped over Caedus’s head and Hux could see the man’s back, he flung Kylo Ren’s lightsaber with what force he could in his left hand.

What happened next took only a second in time, but time had seemed to slow to a crawl while he was in the air.

Caedus turned, causing Kylo’s lightsaber to sink into the man’s shoulder, instead of his heart. But as the blade began to pierce the Knight’s flesh, a bolt of blue shot through the endless white, the blaster shot striking the hilt of the lightsaber like it was Force guided.

The explosion that followed sent Hux flying several meters, nearly burying him in the snow. And for a moment, Hux was content to lie in there, the icy snow a soothing balm to his wounds.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if he was still in danger or not, if Caedus had survived as well. So, more sluggishly than he would have liked, he got back to his feet.

Caedus was lying in the snow, and the stench of burning flesh filled Hux’s nose. But Hux knew the man was not dead, his life still thrived in the Force, though his agony was unbearable.

His breath coming in heavy huffs, Hux made his way to Caedus, standing over the Knight of Ren. Judging by the burns caused by the exploding lightsaber, the other man didn’t have long. But Hux knew, from morbid experience, to never assume one is dead unless you do the deed yourself.

And so Hux stretched out his hand, feeling the Force surrounding Caedus as the Knight clung to life, and squeezed.

The fact Caedus was face down in the snow meant Hux didn’t have to hear his dying gasps.

When Hux felt Caedus’s death through the Force, he extended his hand instead to the fallen Knight’s weapon, summoning it to his hand. Sure, the weapon was far too large for him, but a weapon was a weapon, and he couldn’t afford to go without.

As he grasped Caedus’s lightsaber, Hux turned his attention back to the direction of the blaster fire. He couldn’t even see the supply ship, how in the name of the Force did Mitaka manage to see them, let alone hit the lightsaber in precisely the correct spot?

Excellent shot, indeed…

Slowly, Hux made his way back to the ship, careful not to jostle his wounded side. Hopefully there was a medkit on the ship so they could examine the wound more carefully to make sure nothing serious had been damaged.

Hux had barely survived a duel with one Knight of Ren…he shuddered to think what would happen when more came…

Hux didn’t have the strength to pull himself through the small opening of the hatch, mindlessly reaching through the opening until the hands of the crew grabbed him and slowly pulled him inside. Once inside, he didn’t bother to remain standing, sprawling out on the steel floor.

“Is he dead?” Rodinion murmured as the crew crowded around Hux.

Hux nodded slowly, allowing his eyes to drift close for a moment, “He’s dead, alright…” he sighed. “One down…five left.”

“Will the other Knights come?” Thanisson asked quietly.

“Oh, they’ll come.” Hux replied, rubbing his face tiredly, “Now it’s just a race to see who will get to us first.”

With a grunt, Hux managed to get himself into a sitting position once more, with the help of Rodinon and Thanisson. “But we should be alright for now…”

Mitaka snorted, slinging the blaster over his shoulder, “How did you know Kylo Ren’s lightsaber would explode like that?”

Hux smiled softly, “The kyber crystal in the lightsaber is cracked, making it already unstable. It was bound to explode sooner or later, and I knew a direct hit would do the trick.” He turned his attention to lieutenant, “By the way, Mitaka, good work. That was an amazing…”

The words died on his tongue as Hux met Mitaka’s gaze, his mouth dropping open in shock, “What is wrong with your eyes?”

The entire crew turned to look at Mitaka, who was frozen in shock. Hux watched in horror as the black brown of Mitaka’s irises… _leaked_ sluggishly into the whites of his eyes, revealing mercurial silver around Mitaka’s pupils.

“What the hell are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Hux beats the badguy! Boo, penpen did another cliffhanger (my bad). And oh no, Mitaka! What the hell is he? Well...I know what he is, but what do you think? 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on the fic, and what you'd love to see in the future, I love hearing from all of you! Thank you so much!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, a new chapter and there were no power outages, flood warnings, creepy conspiracy theories to stand in my way. But I'll tell you what guys, I still really struggled with this chapter. I guess after last chapter, I just didn't know where to go next. So my apologies if this chapter seems...lacking in action. I tried to fit a bit more character connections in this one.
> 
> And more lovely fanart (I am seriously blown away that people are using their artist abilities to draw images from my little fic...)
> 
> So we have an emotional scene with Ben and Braeda (which reminds me of the Chapter 2 opening) by Kawaiilo-ren on tumblr:  
> http://kawaiilo--ren.tumblr.com/post/140741978930/i-couldnt-help-myself-i-was-reading
> 
> And, I just saw this pop up when I was getting ready to upload this chapter, a sketch of Hux/Braeda and his mech arm by like-fedex on tumblr:  
> http://like-fedex.tumblr.com/post/140956970105/quick-pen-rough-draft-of-sleeper-agenthux-from
> 
> Thank you all for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

There were plenty of things that could be said about Poe Dameron, and no doubt he had heard a vast majority of them all. One helluva pilot, reckless, cocky, flyboy, posterboy of the Resistance; good things, bad things, things that made him laugh. There were plenty of things that could be said about Poe Dameron.

 

But above all else, Poe was a Commander in the Resistance, and if he was tasked with a sensitive mission, you could bet a year’s worth of credits that he would put his life behind that mission. He’d done it on Jakku, he’d done it with Starkiller, and you could bet your ass he’d do it with Ilum. Working with Kylo Ren…Ben, would be a thorn in Poe’s side, but there was no way he’d let that interfere with his performance.

 

General Organa had told him to bring only his best men. And as Poe made his way through the throngs of people in the hangar bay, ignoring the revelers and cheers congratulating him, he knew that, for this mission, there were two pilots that he particularly wanted for the job.

 

Poe wanted Rapier squadron back in action.

 

The former Rapier pilots were, like everyone else on base, enjoying the post victory celebration. Karé had her flightsuit peeled off her torso and tied around her slender waist, and Iolo was lounging against a pallet of cargo, taking long swigs of a murky green liquor. Poe hoped that whatever it was that Iolo was drinking wouldn’t be strong enough to ground the Keshian from flying. He needed his old squad to back him up on an already complicated mission.

 

“Kun, Arana!” Poe barked as he approached, pulling their attention from the revelry.

 

At once, both pilots looked up from their conversations (or in Iolo’s case, his drink) to look at their former squad leader.

 

“Oh kriff.” Iolo muttered, “He’s got that look.”

 

Karé nodded in agreement, “I don’t like that look. It spells trouble.”

 

Had Poe not been in a stressful situation, he might have rolled his eyes fondly at Iolo’s griping. But they were already racing the clock, as it were. “I need you both to get back into your flightsuits.” He glanced at Iolo’s drink, “Is that inhebriating?”

 

“To you, maybe, lightweight.” The Keshian muttered, setting the bottle down on the box, “And what the hell could possibly be so damn important that it couldn’t wait until we had finished celebrating our victory from the last mission?”

 

Poe just shook his head, “Classified, I’ll tell you when you’re in your X-Wings.”

 

With a sigh, Karé ran a hand through her cropped hair, “Alright, alright. I’ll get Stiletto squadron and—”

 

“No.” Poe shook his head, “I don’t want your squadrons. This mission needs just you two.”

 

That caused Iolo to look Poe dead in the eye, the iridescent violet meeting Poe’s own brown, “Now you’re just scaring me, Dameron.”

 

Poe smirked, “Oh come on, would I lead you into something you couldn’t handle?”

 

“No.” Iolo shook his head, “But that’s because that doesn’t exist.”

 

That had the former Rapier captain chuckling, “Good, because I need my best back up possible for this one.”

 

“It’s not like you to sound unsure, Poe.” Karé murmured, already fixing her flightsuit back onto her arms, “Should we be worried?”

 

“You two just worry about covering my back.” Poe nodded, “And hopefully by the end of the day, we’ll have one hell of a story to tell.”

 

“It’s already the end of the day.” Iolo grumbled, “And this better be one damn good story to tell, because Dagger Squadron is a bunch of gossips.”

 

Poe just grinned. It was good to have the team together again.

 

* * *

 

 

It felt good being back on the _Falcon_ , even if Ben had been hiding in it’s smuggling holds just an hour before hand. It was the most familiar setting to Ben, the rest of the Resistance base felt so…foreign to him. Walking around it, even if it had only been the most direct path to the _Falcon_ , left him with the lingering feeling that he didn’t belong there.

 

Did he belong there? Truly?

 

Ben quickly shook the thoughts from his mind, refusing to allow them to take root. Doubt had gotten him into his downward spiral before, he could not let it get to him again.

 

Rey was already sitting in the _Falcon’_ s cockpit, leaving the two pilot’s seats open.

 

“So…” She spoke softly, breaking the silence between them, “You…you knew me…”

 

Ben nodded slowly, “I did… you were one of the younglings at Uncle’s temple…there were only four of you at the time…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I taught you…me and Braeda…we were the senior padawans…”

 

“Before you massacred the temple.”

 

He couldn’t help but wince at the reminder of the evils he had committed, “Yes…” He whispered, looking down at his feet.

 

He could hear Rey shift as she stood up once more, closing the distance between them, “Why didn’t you kill me?” She whispered, “Why did you let me live?”

 

“I…didn’t think I did.” Ben shook his head, “I didn’t feel your presence that night…it was hidden.” He looked up at her, “What do you remember?”

 

“Only the vision I received when I grabbed this.” She lifted up the lightsaber Ben had spent so much of his childhood idolizing, “…Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber…” She murmured.

 

“No.” Ben shook his head, “While it’s true, my uncle did use this lightsaber for a time, this is not his lightsaber.”

 

Rey frowned, “But why…”

 

“This lightsaber,” Ben continued, gingerly lifting a hand to touch the body of the relic, “Belonged to his father, my grandfather. This lightsaber predates the First Order, the Empire, the Clone Wars…this lightsaber is an icon of Jedi history.”

 

How many hours had he been captivated the stories of the Hero without Fear? How many stories had he uncovered in the forgotten archives from before the Empire, to read when his parents had thought he had long since gone to sleep? How many years had he idolized his grandfather as the Jedi who felt emotions, who could be impulsive like him…the Jedi who had dared to love…

 

How many hours had he stayed awake at night, fearful that he would suffer Anakin Skywalker’s same fate?

 

When had his worship of Anakin Skywalker…perverted to worship of Vader?

 

* * *

 

 

“I don’t like this…” Poe muttered as he and Finn made their way to the _Millennium Falcon_ , “This is Kylo Ren we’re talking about…”

 

“I know, Poe.” Finn nodded, running a hand over his hair in agitation, “But…he feels different that he did before on Jakku.”

 

Poe raised an eyebrow, “Feels different?”

 

Finn shook his head, “I can’t explain it…I just…there’s something different than before. And besides, he helped us escape with Han from Starkiller.” He added, “He even carried his father onto the ship for us.”

 

“I wish I had your faith, Finn.” Poe sighed, his shoulder brushing Finn’s own as they walked up the Falcon’s gangplank. The younger man felt warm against Poe’s shoulder, even through Poe’s fighter jacket, and Poe couldn’t help but gravitate to the sensation.

 

There wasn’t enough warmth in the universe.

 

The first thing Poe noticed upon entering the cockpit was that Rey and Kylo Ren—Ben— were standing too close to one another, both of their hands clasped around the hilt of a lightsaber.

 

Finn did the honors of gaining their attention, “We ready to go?”

 

The two looked up, stepping away from one another as Ben looked over to them, a curious expression passing his features.

 

“I thought you would be flying your X-Wing, Dameron.” Ben murmured, looking between Poe and Finn as if he were trying to solve a riddle

 

Poe frowned, “And leave you alone with Finn and Rey? I don’t think so.” He shook his head, moving to the pilot’s seat, “And someone needs to fly this thing, right?”

 

For a moment, Poe expected Ben to argue about who would sit in the pilot’s seat. He expected the taller man to demand to pilot, or to insist Poe not be on the ship at all. He expected to be pulled forcefully from the pilot’s seat and thrown from the _Falcon_ completely.

 

But instead, Ben simply made his way to the copilot’s seat, sitting down without protest. “Are we prepared for take off?”

 

Well, that was certainly an interesting development. Perhaps Finn was on to something after all. But they didn’t have time to dwell on it too long, “We have Karé Kun and Iolo Arana running our back up. We’ll get outside D’Qar’s atmosphere and brief them on the mission. Then we’re heading straight to Ilum.”

 

Ben nodded, his hands fluttering over the various switches and buttons on the _Falcon_ ’s dashboard as he began the launch sequence like it was second nature, “I can only hope we’re not too late to save him…”

 

“Yeah, about that…” Poe looked quickly back at Finn, who was moving closer to Poe’s side, before looking back at the sky opening before them, “Who exactly is this Braeda guy?”

 

From beside him, Poe could practically feel Ben sigh deeply, “Back when my Uncle first opened his temple to train a new generation of Jedi, Braeda was his first pupil. I joined the temple as soon as it became apparently that the Force was with me, and Braeda and I became close friends…”

 

Now Poe didn’t need the Force to tell that “close friends” wasn’t exactly the right word to discribe what the long lost Solo son felt towards the spy, but he wasn’t about to dive into that conversation.

 

“When I…when I fell,” Poe was surprised to hear Ben’s voice, the voice of Kylo Ren, crack with emotion, “Braeda stood against me…and I thought I killed him. But apparently, I left not only Braeda alive…I left Rey alive as well.”

 

Poe raised an eyebrow, looking back at the young woman that Finn had only recently introduced him to. Just how many Jedi were running around these days?

 

The crackle of the com pulled Poe from his thoughts.

 

_“Stiletto leader, annoyed and checking in.”_

 

_“Dagger leader, not drunk enough and checking in.”_

 

Poe rolled his eyes, pressing the com unit on the _Falcon_ ’s dashboard, “Black Leader, checking in and going to kick your asses later.”

 

_“Get me drunk first, and I won’t give a womp rat’s ass.”_

 

Ben looked back at Poe, frowning, “These are your best men?” he hissed.

 

“Technically speaking, Iolo’s my best man…Karé’s my best woman.” He smirked, turning his attention back to the com, “Alright you two, you ready for the quickest damn mission brief of your life?”

 

 _“Please do.”_ Karé’s voice drawled on the other end.

 

Poe snorted, “Here it is: We’re flying to Ilum on a rescue mission. Apparently, there are several First Order officers who have defected and are willing to trade information for us saving their asses from capture.”

 

There was a long period of silence on the other end of the communications, and for a moment, Poe wondered if the other two had heard him. Then—

 

“Are you kriffin’ kidding me, Dameron? I’m not getting absolutely blitzed right now because we’re rescuing First Order officers?” Ah, yes, there was Iolo’s insightful commentary, eloquent as always. Poe couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he guided the _Falcon_ out of D’Qar’s gravitational pull.

 

There was an exasperated sigh, _“Of course that’s not all, Iolo. Poe just can’t tell us the actual “Classified” details.”_

 

_“You son of a bitch, Dameron.”_

 

Poe had to resist the urge to snort, “I’m really sorry guys, General’s orders.”

 

_“Yeah yeah, as always. Let’s just get this over with. I don’t trust Pava not to steal my drink.”_

 

“Copy that, let’s get this over so Iolo can hurry up and get drunk.” Poe chuckled, flicking the controls of the antique vessel. Really, why had the general insisted on using this piece of junk? “Preparing to enter hyperspace.”

 

_“Entering hyperspace.”_

 

_“Entering hyperspace, you asshole.”_

 

* * *

 

If someone were to tell Poe that he would one day copilot with Kylo Ren, he’d no doubt give said person a nasty right hook, just on principle of the insult alone.

 

Yet, there he was, sitting next to the man who had, just days previously, mentally tortured him for information about the map to his apparent uncle. And as much as Poe admired the general, she had more family drama than any normal person should ever be expected to deal with.

 

“I can hear your thoughts from over here.” Ben muttered, staring out the port as the stars streaked by the _Falcon_ as they traveled through hyperspace. “And yes…my family does have a lot of…issues.”

 

“And how many of those issues do you think stem from you?” Poe gave the other man a scathing look. Rey and Finn had wandered off to see if they could fix the jammed weapons system (was there anything on the ship that was working properly?), leaving Ben and Poe alone to pilot.

 

Perhaps not the wisest decision.

 

“Probably too many…” Ben murmured, “If not for me, my uncle wouldn’t be missing, there would be more Jedi in the universe…the First Order wouldn’t have the Knights of Ren, probably…”

 

“That’s a lot of issues.”

 

The other man nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair, “I know I can never make up for everything I’ve done…but I have to try…”

 

Poe gripped his controls tightly before turning to face Ben, “Look, Kylo Ren, or Ben, or whatever the hell your real name is, let’s get one thing straight. Everyone seems more than willing to forgive you for the bantha shit you’ve shoveled on the galaxy. Your parents love you more than what should be considered healthy, so it’s no surprise there. Rey seems to think there’s some Force connection between you, and Finn’s too trusting for his own good—”

 

“I’m still puzzled how Phasma never managed to crush his spirit…” Ben drawled sardonically.

 

“…anyway...” Poe bit out, “Don’t expect that kind of lovey dovey forgiveness from me.” He shook his head, “We’re at war here, and you’re little change of heart just seems a little too convenient to me.”

 

“You certainly don’t mind Finn’s “change of heart” all that much.” Ben replied, meeting Poe’s gaze evenly.

 

Poe grit his teeth, “Leave him out of this. This is about you.” He hissed, leaning forward into the taller man’s personal space, “And I’m going to let you know now: you try anything that might even remotely suggest you’ll betray us, and I’ll leave your carcass with a blaster shot between the eyes and buried in the Ilum snow.”

 

There was a moment when Ben only watched Poe evenly, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, the former Knight of Ren leaned forward, his face only an inch from Poe’s as he spoke.

 

“Good.”

 

The comment cause Poe to start, blinking in confusion, “What?”

 

“I said good.” Ben repeated, sitting upright once more, “It’s good to know that someone will hold me accountable this time around, who won’t be blinded by love or loyalty should I begin to stumble again…I can’t afford to fall again.”

 

“I don’t think anyone can.” Poe muttered, looking forward once more, though unable to help himself from looking at the other man out of the corner of his eye. Was this some sort of Force trick? It wasn’t like Kylo Ren was above such methods, but was it possible that the man could be that cunning? Could it be a trick?

 

There was nothing for it, Poe thought. Only time would tell if he would have to apologize for killing her son to save the galaxy.

 

* * *

 

The words were barely off Hux’s lips, yet the effect was nearly instantaneous. Startled fear rippled through the officers at the implication that one of their own was not a who, but instead a what.

 

And Mitaka, at Hux’s words, shrunk away from the group, his hand flying quickly to shield his eyes from their gaze.

 

“Oh no you don’t, Mitaka!” Rodinon grunted as he grabbed the former lieutenant’s arms, wrenching them away from Mitaka’s face.

 

As it was, Mitaka still had his eyes closed as tightly as any airlock. And Hux watched, in morbid fascination, as a single drop of the mysterious fluid that had once served as the lieutenant’s dark iris welled in the corner of the young man’s tearduct, before leaving a black streak as it fell down Mitaka’s cheek.

 

Thanisson carefully reached out, touching his finger to the black marring Mitaka’s face, withdrawing his hand to examine the fluid, “It’s not oil…” He murmured as he rubbed the liquid between his thumb and finger, before raising his fingers to his nose and giving a delicate sniff, “It’s definitely chemical…”

 

Hux groaned, shifting his weight carefully so he could get to his feet once more, “We don’t have time to speculate.” He growled, stepping up to the struggling Mitaka, “Open your eyes, Mitaka.”

 

The younger man grit his teeth, eyes remaining stubbornly shut.

 

“Open them, or I will make you.” Hux made sure to keep his voice low and steady. He had found over the years that people tended to fear most those who spoke their threats calmly. They were often the ones with the presence of mind to carry out their threats.

 

“You wouldn’t dare…” Mitaka hissed, keeping his head bowed.

 

“You shouldn’t doubt the things I would do.” Hux replied, grabbing Mitaka’s chin with his good hand and forcing it up so he could look at the young man’s face, “And after what you witnessed me do with Caedus Ren, you shouldn’t doubt that I have the power to do so. I am just as powerful as Kylo Ren ever was, and I have twice the control. If I want to make you do something, you better believe _I can make you do it_.” He took a deep breath, wincing slightly as the burns on his side stretched uncomfortably, “Now, open your eyes, Mitaka.”

 

There was a struggle warring around Mitaka, Hux could feel it now: the desperate desire to hide and protect slowly being devoured by the beast that was resignation. And, slowly, Mitaka opened his eyes.

 

At first glance, Mitaka’s eyes didn’t match. The right eye seemed very much the same as it had before, with the black fluid filling the whites of Mitaka’s eye, leaving behind a silver iris behind. The left eye, however, was the one that had begun to leak the fluid down Mitaka’s cheek: the rest of the blackfluid was already beginning to ooze its way out of Mitaka’s tearduct. But the left eye was also beginning to ooze a thin white fluid as well, mixing with the black as it fell down Mitaka’s cheek.

 

It was then that Hux realized that there was _no_ white to Mitaka’s left eye, the entirety of it consumed by the silver coloring, save for the tiny pinprick of a pupil at its center.

 

Glancing back at Mitaka’s right eye, Hux could see that the white was moving in a liquid way not natural to a human eye, and, if Hux looked hard enough, he could see glimpses of silver through the milky white.

 

“It’s dye…” Hux murmured, watching Mitaka carefully, “You dye your eyes…to look human…”

 

Mitaka flinched away from Hux’s hold, and Hux allowed him too, having seen what he wanted to see. The other officers looked at each other warily, some stepping away from Mitaka in a mixture of fear and disgust.

 

Hux rolled his eyes, “For those of you who might still be harboring the First Order’s ideals of Human supremacy, I suggest you get over it quickly, or the Resistance will no doubt take offense.” He turned his attention back to Mitaka, “…It’s Keshian, right? Or at least some ancestry.”

 

Mitaka closed his eyes once more, his shoulders sagging with defeat, “…half…” He murmured weakly. “My biological father…”

 

“So your surname isn’t Mitaka?” Rodinon slowly released Mitaka’s arms.

 

“It is.” Mitaka stressed, wiping a smear of dye across his cheek. Seeing the mess of colors on his hand, Mitaka let loose an irritated growl before slumping against the cool wall of the transport, meeting Hux’s gaze once more, “You’re going to make me explain everything, aren’t you, Hux?”

 

Hux shrugged his good shoulder, “We truly do have nothing better to do than wait and prepare to be rescued.” He eased himself back to the floor, sitting against one of the dead control panels, “But I assure you, Mitaka, even after you explain yourself, I’ll have an even more outrageous story to tell.”

 

“Please do, because you’re kriffing confusing, Hux.” Rodinon muttered. The fire officer reached into his jacket, retrieving what appeared to be a contraband flask and taking a swig of the liquid inside.

 

Thanisson scoffed, “You better have enough of that for everyone.” The young petty officer snatched the flask from Rodinon, taking a drink of his own as they made themselves comfortable on the floor.

 

Mitaka sighed, running his hand through his hair, “If you must know, I have no idea who my biological father is, only that he was a Keshian who raped my mother. And my father didn’t want to bring shame on either my mother or the family, so he…covered it up.” He shook his head, letting out a dry scoff, “I’m actually three months older than my official file states, my parents disguised the date of my birth, and hid me for months, so that my “birth” would line up more believably with his scheduled leave time.”

 

“Doesn’t explain the eyes though.” Came a reply from one of officers from engineering.

 

Hux shook his head, “Does the Academy do that much of a piss poor job teaching about other species?” He looked at the young men around him, “Keshians are nearly identical to humans, at least in appearance, with the exception of their eyes, which are known for being large and abnormally colored.”

 

Mitaka nodded, “I was lucky that my eyes were only slightly larger than normal, but in order to pass as human, my parents had to find a way to disguise the natural color of my eye…and the fact that I almost never have a visible pupil.” He chuckled dryly, “As it would happen, having dye implants in the eye is a common enough cosmetic procedure for Keshians who adore the “human-eye look” and have the credits for it.”

 

So that what was leaking from Mitaka’s eyes: ruptured implants. It seemed so simple in hindsight.

 

“But how the hell did you manage to go undetected in the First Order?” Thanisson propped his chin in his hand, “You’d think the First Order would have…procedures for identifying non-humans…”

 

“You’re operating under the assumption, Thanisson, that the First Order cared about blood rather than…appearance.” Hux wrinkled his nose in disgust. As if he needed another reason to loath the First Order, “Most of the procedures in place focused on if one looked human.”

 

“And I did.” Mitaka nodded, “I just had to make sure to keep a low profile and not be noticed.”

 

As Hux watched Mitaka, he couldn’t help but wonder what else he had missed in his years as general. What secrets had he missed in those who worked below him? What would have happened if Mitaka’s secret had not been so benign? He shuddered to think about it.

 

“Well, everything makes sense to me now.” Hux muttered, ignoring the confused looks of the other officers, “So did you rupture your implants while lining up the shot on Kylo Ren’s lightsaber?”

 

“That’s the only thing that makes sense.” Mitaka began to blink rapidly, the leaking dye no doubt irritating his eyes.

 

Hux nodded, “No doubt your pupil dilated larger than the implant could accommodate.” Before any of the other officers could open their mouths to voice a question, Hux was already answering, “Keshians can see a wide variety of light spectra not visible to the naked eye. It makes them astounding pilots in dogfights or, in Mitaka’s case, an _excellent_ shot.”

 

A blush crept up Mitaka’s cheeks, but Hux decided not to comment on it. The poor lad had been though enough…they all had really.

 

“So…what next?” Rodinon raised an eyebrow, looking at Thanisson, “If you come out and say you’re a bald Wookie, I’m out of here.”

 

“Kriff you, Rodinon.” Thanisson rolled his eyes, helping himself to another drink of the fire officer’s flask.

 

Mitaka shook his head, looking back at Hux, “Alright Hux, what’s your deal then: a Jedi in the First Order?”

 

Hux sighed, “Well, it is quite the long story. But first I should tell you this: I am not Brendol Hux II.”

 

* * *

 

The sight of Ilum had always been enough to take Ben’s breath away. It had been when he was a child, and it did while he was an adult. There were just some places, so sacred with the Force, that they demanded to be viewed in awe.

 

How many years had it been since he was last walking through the icy caves of Ilum? Fifteen, twenty years? And Starkiller had been so close…it was a blessing Ilum had not been damaged with the weapon’s destruction.

 

“There’s something strange about this planet…” Ben looked up to see Finn standing by Poe’s chair, watching the icy planet carefully, “I don’t know what, but it’s…something…”

 

“It’s the Force, Finn.” Ben nodded, “Ilum is home to not only a Jedi temple, but also the crystal caves where padawans complete their rite of passage by discovering the crystal that will become the blade of their lightsaber. There are few places in the entire galaxy that are more sacred to the Jedi…”

 

“I take it you were here once.” Rey whispered, “You and Braeda both…”

 

“Yes…” The word was scarcely more than a breath from Ben’s lips, terrified of reliving the memory of Braeda, clutching the tiny green crystal of a Consular, giving him that smile… “It seem so…fitting to meet him here…”

 

“Well we won’t be able to do that if we can’t find him.” Poe muttered, “We don’t have the time or fuel to search the entire planet.”

 

“They said the Northern Hemisphere…” Ben frowned, unsure what to do next. Braeda was always the one who could form a plan, and he assumed that quality had only been exacerbated by Hux.

 

A tiny blip sounded on the _Falcon_ ’s scanners. It wasn’t much, not large enough to come from a ship, but it was enough for them to see. A single blue dot on the scanner. And Ben couldn’t help but grin at the sight, “That’s him…”

 

Rey blinked, “How do you know?” She moved to Ben’s side, watching the scanner.

 

“Because who else would have a homing beacon with them on a planet with limited inhabitance?” Ben chuckled, watching the small blue dot blip a soothing cadence to Ben’s ears.

 

Of course, that wasn’t the only thing that began to show up on the radar.

 

“Son of a—” Poe grit his teeth the scanner began to light up with several other dots, “You wanna remind me how many Knights of Ren there are?”

 

“Besides me? There are six.” Ben’s heart began to race as he counted the red beacons. Five, there were five, where was six? Who was missing? Who would they be facing?

 

Could Ben face the Knights of Ren?

 

Would he _want_ to?

 

The thought was fleeting, chased away by the image of a smile with no teeth, of tousled red hair, and eyes as blue and calm as the lakes of Naboo. Braeda was alive, after all those years. He was alive and he needed Ben’s help.

 

Ben wouldn’t fail him, not this time.

 

 _“Black leader, we’ve got some TIEs, it seems.”_ The com crackled to life once more as Karé’s voice filled the cockpit.

 

_“Permission to fire, Black leader.”_

 

Poe looked back at Ben, “You ready for this?”

 

Ben nodded firmly, “Let’s do this.”

 

The Resistance commander returned the nod before turning his attention back to the com, “Fire at will, but be warned, those TIEs carry Knights of Ren…so they’re worth extra points if you them down.”

 

_“Loser buys the drinks.”_

 

_“In your dreams, Arana.”_

 

And as the _Falcon_ began its evasive maneuvers through the firefight of TIE fighters, Ben couldn’t help but close his eyes, just for a moment. _Hang in there Braeda…I’m on my way._

 

Ben wasn’t sure if it was adrenalin or wishful thinking, but he could have sworn he heard two words from a voice he so longed to hear.

 

_I know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, they're so close to reuniting! It's almost here! And I do hope Mitaka's secret was enjoyable enough to read. I actually stumbled upon Iolo's page on Wookiepedia, and seeing how...brief the Keshian page was, I thought I could take some...liberties with it. I did love reading all of your theories, and I hope no one was too disappointed!
> 
> Sorry for the lack of action, hopefully there will be more next chapter!
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you think, and I love hearing your thoughts and ideas for what's to come!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late posting. Don't worry, there were no flood warnings like a few weeks ago. I actually just had a rough time writing the last scene, and made myself sleep on it so I wouldn't ruin the scene. Believe it or now, I woke up at 6am on a Sunday to finish this chapter and post it within a reasonable time!
> 
> I do hope it was worth the wait!

It had been quite some time since Ben had last been in a dogfight in the _Millennium Falcon._ If he remembered correctly, he had been twelve, and his father had made him swear that he would never mention the incident to his mother, an oath he had taken very seriously at the time. And during long years that had passed in the interim that Ben had forgotten quite a few things.

 

The first of which being that dogfights in the _Falcon_ were absolutely terrifying.

 

It wasn’t like a TIE fighter or an X-Wing, with secure pilot cockpits and harnesses, state of the art targeting systems, and functioning weapons systems. Kriff, it wasn’t even like any type of craft that was actually _designed_ for dogfights. The _Falcon_ was a smuggling ship, meant to get cargo from point A to point B without persons C ever discovering it.

 

There were no harnesses to hold the pilots (or passengers) in place during daring flips and rolls, the weapons system was thirty years out of date, and Ben didn’t even want to _think_ about what the past fifteen odd years in the Jakku sands had done to the mechanics of the antique.

 

The _Falcon_ was not designed for dogfights. It should not be anywhere _near_ a dogfight.

 

Well the universe should have known by then what would happen if it tried to apply the laws of _shoulds_ and _should nots_ to a member of the Skywalker clan.

 

“We ready for this?” Poe called out as he gripped the steering controls tightly. “Finn, you planning on being my gunner for this?”

 

From the bowels of the _Falcon_ , Ben could hear the excited tremors in Finn’s voice as he replied, “You can count on me!”

 

That was all the encouragement Dameron needed apparently, as he let loose a whoop of excitement, “Alright, here we go!”

 

The next few moments were little more than a blur of sights and sounds as the _Millennium Falcon_ ducked and dived into Ilum’s atmosphere, through the torrent of red and green laser blasts that streaked across the Ilum snow.

 

“So how good of pilots are the Knights of Ren?” Poe asked, pulling the _Falcon_ out of a dive that was a bit too steep for Ben’s comfort.

 

“I don’t know.” Ben was forced to admit, gripping the copilot’s steering column a bit more tightly than he normally would, “We didn’t exactly go on flight runs together.” In fact, it was rare for the Knights of Ren to all be in one place for a long period of time…but then again, if Snoke had summoned them all to get to Braeda…

 

“Here we are, got one…” Poe grinned as he zeroed in on one of the TIEs darting after one of the Resistance X-Wings, “Let her rip, Finn!”

 

Ben wasn’t surprised that Finn managed to shoot the TIE out of the air, and felt the death of Opress Ren in the ripples of the Force. After all, the former Stormtrooper had once been one of Phasma’s star pupils, head of the FN-corps. What had surprised Ben, was hearing Rey’s voice calling after the shot, “I told you it wouldn’t backfire, Finn!”

 

Ben couldn’t help but groan, “I didn’t need to hear that…”

 

“Me neither,” Poe muttered, “Like I need any more anxiety flying this death trap…” The pilot reached out and flipped on the communications, “That’s one for me, you two. Better step up your game.”

 

 _“Yeah yeah, I’m on one now, Dameron.”_ Came the rough drawl of Iolo Arana. It wasn’t a few moments later that Ben felt another disturbance in the Force, the life of Vos Ren flickering out as another explosion boomed in the Ilum sky. _“And that’s one for me. Looks like you’re buying drinks, Kun.”_

_“Like hell I am!”_ A light and airy laugh sounded from Karé Kun as she circled around the _Falcon_ in a hairpin turn, rocketing after another TIE. Ben could hear the shots, as well as the resounding explosion, but there was something…wrong. He hadn’t feel the same loss in the Force as he had with Opress or Vos.

 

“He isn’t dead.” Ben murmured, just as Kun’s voice was heard once more on the com.

 

_“Damn, he ejected.”_

_“Doesn’t count, Kun, you’re still losing.”_ Iolo laughed.

 

Poe rolled his eyes, “He’s out of commission, so it counts.” He shook his head, “We’re all tied up it seems, and there’s only one TIE left. Looks like this is—”

 

“ _Don_ _’t say it—”_

“—A TIE breaker.”

 

There was a groan from the other two pilots, and no doubt Ben would have also been groaning at the downright awful joke on Dameron’s behalf, had he not been caught up with the commanders other words. One TIE left.

 

One TIE in the air, and three that were previously shot down. Four total.

 

Where was Five?

 

Ben quickly looked at the _Falcon_ _’_ s scanner, hoping that Dameron had just been mistaken in his declaration. But no, there was only one red beacon that resonated on the scanner, along with the lone blue blip that was, hopefully, Braeda.

 

“We’re missing one.” Ben could feel the knot dreadful realization taking form in his gut, “We’re missing a TIE.”

 

Dameron looked over at him quickly, “What was that?”

 

“There were five TIEs on our scanners when we started this.” Ben reiterated, “And if we’ve shot three, that should mean there would be two TIEs on our scanners now, but there’s only one.” His gut twisted as the knot pulled tighter, “One must have landed…” His blood turned to ice in his veins as his eyes drifted to the little blue dot on the scanner, “We need to land!”

 

“There’s no way I’m leaving my men like this!” Poe grit his teeth.

 

“You said they’re your best men!” Ben insisted, “They can hold their own. We have a mission, Dameron!”

 

“And I’m not going to rick getting Karé or Iolo killed just because you’re desperate to see your lover!”

 

Ben froze, his muscles seizing at that single word: lover.

 

Poe let loose an agitated huff, “That’s what I thought. “Close friends” my ass…”

 

“We were close friends, the best.” Ben hissed, clenching his fists, “And don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to do the same thing if it were Finn down there.”

 

There was a moment in which Poe said nothing, looking forward as he piloted the _Falcon_ lower over the icy landscape of Ilum. It wasn’t until Ben noticed that they were moving closer to Braeda’s beacon that he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips.

 

Of course, the smile vanished when Ben caught glimpse of a spot of gray among the vast expanse of white. It was a small cargo freighter from _Starkiller_. Braeda was in that ship. Ben could sense it now, Braeda’s presence in the Force…how had Ben not been able to feel his presence before?

 

But the freighter wasn’t alone, Ben could see that much. The TIE looked like it had just freshly landed, but that was still too close for Ben to handle.

 

“I have to go now!” Ben stood from the copilot’s seat.

 

“Hold on, Ben, at least let me land!” Poe looked over at Ben, alarmed.

 

Ben shook his head, “We don’t have time! Just do a low fly over, I’ll jump!”

 

“Jump?” The incredulous, horrified look on Poe’s face would have been priceless had the situation not been so dire, “Jump from a moving ship, are you crazy?”

 

“You bet I am!” Ben shouted, racing through the corridors of the _Falcon_ as he ignored any further protest from the Resistance pilot. Though, judging by the way the _Falcon_ began to dip once more, Ben could surmise that Poe had decided to humor Ben this time. Well, at least they were building a little bit of trust.

 

Ben was nearly to the _Falcon_ _’s_ hatch before he realized _he had no plan_ that could help Braeda. He grit his teeth. Damn it all…Braeda had always been the one who could think on his feet, who could wipe the floor with him in a game of Dejarik. Ben was the emotional, impulsive one, always getting himself into trouble, and Braeda would always have to get him out of trouble.

 

How could Ben save Braeda…when he couldn’t even take care of himself?

 

“Ben!”

 

Startled from his thoughts, Ben turned his attention away from the hatch, and to the petite figure of Rey, standing at the opposite end of the corridor.

 

Rey swallowed, stepping towards him carefully, “You’re..we’re going to save him, aren’t we?”

 

“Yes.” Ben nodded slowly, “I promise, Rey. We’re going to rescue him…and then we’re going to explain everything to you, so you can…so you can know who you are.”

 

Rey was slow to return his nod, stepping up until she was just outside his grasp. Then, her hand reached to her belt, grasping the weapon there and hesitantly offering it to him.

 

“I think this belongs to you.”

 

* * *

 

 

If Hux could have described the expressions on the faces of the officers sitting around him, he doubted he would be able to find a single word that could capture the array of emotions that were etched on their features. It was a bit more than confusion, slightly incredulous, but at the same time there was exasperation that appeared to sneak onto a couple of the officers’ faces (Mitaka had more than his fair share of this particular emotion).

 

“What do you mean, you aren’t Brendol Hux?” Thanisson frowned, “We know who you are, we’ve all served under you for _years_.”

 

“Very true, Thanisson.” Hux couldn’t help it, he smirked, “But what you should also know is that the real Brendol Hux II, son of former Commandant Brendol Hux, died at age nineteen.”

 

Silence reigned over the dark interior of the freighter for quite some time, none of the occupants daring to move, to speak, to _breathe_.

 

Then—

 

“Who the hell might you be, then?” Rodinon rubbed his temples slowly, no doubt trying to ease an oncoming headache.

 

“Well you already know my real name, it’s Braeda.” Hux nodded, leaning his head back to rest on the cold steel of a console as he allowed his eyes to drift shut, “And, when I was seventeen, I took on Hux’s identity as my own, assuming his rank fresh out of the Academy, and I’ve lived as Hux for…oh, coming close to fifteen years, perhaps?”

 

“And, why,” Mitaka sighed, his shoulders sagging as if under an enormous weight, “would you want so desperately to take on Hux’s identity in the First Order?”

 

“He was the closest to me in appearance, and his family background and performance in the Academy promised at least some potential to climb the ranks quickly, to better my position.” Hux shrugged his one good arm, wincing slightly as the gesture tugged at his wound. Right, better not jostle that…

 

“Position?”

 

At this, Hux allowed his eyes to crack open slowly, his gaze to drift from officer to officer. All eyes were on him, as expected.

 

“Of course: my position as a spy.”

 

There was a delayed reaction to the words, but Hux had expected that much. A moment was needed for the words and their meanings to fully register in the minds of the young officers, and a moment more for their implications to be fully understood. Even then, their faces seemed trapped, unable to completely express any sort of emotion.

 

Thanisson had paled quite a bit (which was saying something, given the petty officer’s complexion), “A spy?”

 

“Don’t tell me none of you ever wondered.” Hux kept his gaze fixed steadfast on the faces of the officers, flicking from one to another for any signs of changes in their emotions, “Didn’t you ever wonder how the Resistance, a rebellion held together by remnants of the Republic and the charity of planets wishing to avoid the wrath of the First Order, managed to not only keep up with the First Order, with all its military might, but at times remain a step ahead? Didn’t you ever wonder how they managed to avoid _every single_ raid the First Order conducted on their suspected bases? Didn’t you ever wonder _how they got the plans for Starkiller?_ _”_

 

There was horror beginning to ebb into the eyes of the young men before him. Granted, Hux could feel that fear in the Force, but he had learned to read expressions just as well as the Force. The horror of realization, the dreadful moment of pieces coming together in ways they had not even _imagined_ previously. And Hux could see those fearful eyes watching him, as if Hux was changing before their very eyes.

 

And, in several ways, he was.

 

The horror began to give way to other emotions, as Hux expected. Confusion, as thoughts began to spin faster than any simulator had ever forced them to think before; doubt, as minds began to second guess instincts; and, of course, anger, as the realization dawned on them that everything they had been told by him was an intricate, grotesquely beautiful, lie.

 

He had expected backlash. He had just expected the first outburst to come from Mitaka.

 

Not Rodinon.

 

Pain erupted quite suddenly in the back of Hux’s skull as Rodinon had slammed his head into the steel console, holding Hux’s hair in a tight fist.

 

“If you’re a spy, then why did you destroy Hosnian?” Rodinon cried out, his blue-green eyes staring down at Hux behind a thin veil of unshed tears. Tear of fury, as Hux soon found out, as the former lieutenant’s hands found their way around Hux’s neck, “ _Why did you destroy Hosnian?_ _”_

The other officers, momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst, quickly moved to pry Rodinon off of Hux’s neck, “You’ll kill him!” Thanisson shouted.

 

“He’s a murderer!” Rodinon would not be swayed, gripping all the tighter on the pale column of Hux’s throat as he glared down at his former commanding officer, “I had to enter that firing sequence, you know that? I had to do _your_ dirty work, and for what? Why did you kill them all?”

 

Even if Hux hadn’t been able to feel Rodinon’s every emotion through the Force (and he could, with how much the young man was projecting), he could see it clear as the back of his hand. Pain. Not rage, not hatred, not even malice.

 

Pain.

 

Hux may have been the one who had stood on that stage, reciting the venom of the First Order while condemning billions to die, but he was not, he realized belatedly, the only one who had guilt over Hosnian. The former lieutenant wasn’t even thirty yet, and already he had been an active participant in genocide, following a cause that he was quickly realizing was a lie.

 

Hux didn’t just have the blood of Hosnian on his hands; he had spread it to several others.

 

Before his thoughts could continue, his vision began to blur, black beginning to eat away at his peripheries.

 

Well he certainly couldn’t have that.

 

Allowing his eyes to drift closed, Hux instead focused on the Force that surrounded Rodinon, pushing it away from him. And, judging by the startled yelp that sounded from the emotionally high strung lieutenant and the lack of strangulation Hux felt, he knew that the young man was no longer a threat.

 

Rodinon was only a few inches off the ground when Hux opened his eyes, though it was obvious that defying the laws of gravity was not a situation he was comfortable with.

 

“Now,” Hux rasped, his throat raw from abuse, “I’m going to set you down, Rodinon, and I would prefer it if you didn’t attack me again.”

 

Slowly, keeping an eye on the volatile lieutenant, Hux lowered Rodinon to the floor. After several moments of Rodinon not lunging for Hux’s throat, the ex-general sighed heavily, “Hosnian…was not supposed to happen. I made an error in judgment, and billions paid the price for it.”

 

“An… _error in judgment_.” Rodinon grit his teeth, “Is that all?”

 

“The _Starkiller_ test was not meant to commence for another standard month.” Hux murmured, rubbing his throat gingerly, “I already had everything laid out for the Resistance to destroy the weapon before it could even fire, and the plan already in motion: FN-2187 was no doubt en-route to be picked up in Resistance custody, and once sure he was with them, I would send the plans to _Starkiller,_ and he would have easily been able to assist in planning the attack…everything was according to plan…” Letting loose a shaky breath, Hux hung his head, “I should have foreseen the…efficiency of the _Starkiller_ builders, and Snoke’s eagerness to destroy the Republic…a month ahead of schedule, and billions died because of it…”

 

“But you were the _general_.” Thanisson shook his head, “If you didn’t want to fire _Starkiller_ , then you could have ordered the test to be postponed.”

 

A maimed chortle escaped Hux’s lips before he could stop it, the noise causing his throat to burn, “I may have been the general of the First Order, but I was certainly not the one in complete control.” He shook his head slowly, a slight movement, but the gesture was an easy one to understand, “None of you have ever seen Snoke, and for your sake, I hope none of you ever do. When Snoke gave the command, Hosnian was already dead, they just didn’t know it…”

 

Hux stopped as the howl of the wind outside their small craft was overshadowed by the familiar whir of engines, and the echoing blasts of battle.

 

“It sounds like there’s a battle out there…” Mitaka murmured, speaking for the first time in a long while.

 

“Someone is shooting at us!” Thanisson nearly jumped to his feet a the sound.

 

“No, not at us.” Hux replied, “But there is a battle raging outside. It would seem that the Resistance and the Knights of Ren are engaged in a death match…and we are the bounty to be claimed…”

 

They were all silent after that, simply listening to the sounds of aircrafts engaged in combat. There would be the occasional explosion, but there was never a lull in exchanging fire long enough to allow them to exhale the breath they were all collectively holding.

 

It was the low hum of an aircraft flying low overhead that caught all of their attention.

 

Someone was close. Friend or foe, someone was close.

 

He knew none of the others could hear the approaching footsteps over the sound of the snow or the firefight, but Hux could sense the presence reaching closer and closer to their small sanctuary.

 

“Get behind me.” He whispered, looking to the other officer, “Get behind me now.”

 

Mitaka frowned, “Why?”

 

“Because I’m about to be captured, and I would prefer it if none of you died in the process.”

 

* * *

 

 

Being the Master of the Knights of Ren had once been a title that Ben had worn with honor and pride. And, while now, he was ashamed of his previous life as Kylo Ren, the former title still served quite a bit of use to him.

 

He knew the Knights of Ren. He knew them as a whole, and he knew them individually. And, while what he told Poe was true, they never exactly went on flight runs together, Ben still had the advantage of having trained with each of the Knights.

 

He knew their strengths. He knew their weaknesses.

 

Now all he needed to know was _which_ Knight had gotten to Braeda.

 

Not Opress or Vos, both the Armory and the Sniper been killed by Dameron and his men. Both would have also been easy to overtake in a duel. Shame.

 

He hoped he wouldn’t have to face Caedus. The hulking figure of a man had been out for Ben’s blood for years, desperate to claim the power of Kylo Ren. And Ben just didn’t want to deal with that.

 

But he certainly would if it meant saving Braeda.

 

As the hatch of the _Falcon_ opened, Ben couldn’t help but shiver at the abrasive cold of the Ilum air. He had forgotten how cold it was…

 

He could see the freighter from his perch, approaching in breakneck speeds. But as the craft became larger and more clear as the distance closed, Ben could also see the smaller TIE landed nearby. There was a dark figure emerging from the freighter, obviously ladened with a heavy burden.

 

A burden with iconic red hair.

 

Seeing the red of Braeda’s hair was enough for Ben to spring into action, flinging himself from the _Falcon_ _’s_ open hatch. Though, upon landing heavily on the roof of the freighter, and his bones groaned upon impact, he almost regretted the action.

 

Almost.

 

Ben’s landing on the freighter had resulted in quite the clamor, so it wasn’t any surprise that he had gained the attention of the Knight across from him. With slow, labored steps, the Knight turned back to face Ben, and Ben had to resist the urge to reveal a visible reaction.

 

Revan Ren.

 

“I suggest you drop him!” Ben called out, leaping from the top of the freighter to the snow below (with more success in a graceful landing). As he approached Revan, his hand drifted to his grandfather’s lightsaber, ready to use it when the time came.

 

Revan, on the other hand, simply cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, considering Ben as if he were a puzzle to be solved.

 

“Certainly.”

 

Braeda’s body dropped lifelessly to the snow, ejected from Revan’s arms with no more consideration than one might give to a box of spare parts. Reven stepped over Braeda easily as he, too, began his own approach to Ben.

 

Both parties stopped a safe distance from one another, and for a while, neither said a word. But it was Revan who broke the silence.

 

“Master Kylo.” He spoke evenly, going so far as to bow his head a brief nod of respect, “I must admit, we were not expecting you on this particular venture.”

 

Ben clenched his fists, holding the old lightsaber in a white knuckle grasp, “I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else.” He replied, breathing deeply from the harsh air of Ilum, in hopes it would cool his own raging emotions. He could not sway to the Dark Side once more.

 

“I would recognize you anywhere, Master Kylo.” Revan’s voice brokered no room for argument, “I know not what you are trying to accomplish with this ruse, but Supreme Leader has commanded us to retrieve General Hux.”

 

For a brief moment, Revan looked back at the body laying in the snow. “The Force is strong with him, incredibly so.” He nodded, looking back at Ben once more, “He will make a powerful addition to the Knights of Ren, Master Kylo.”

 

So that was Snoke’s plan, to turn Braeda into a Knight of Ren. In the dark recesses of Ben’s mind, he could remember a time in which he had entertained the thought as a fantasy of his. In his youth, as he was tempted more and more by the dark side, he imagined Braeda at his side, ruling not only the Knights of Ren, but the galaxy as a whole. He had imagined Braeda, swathed in black robes and bathed in the red glow of a new lightsaber, sharing those toothless smiles with him as they destroyed all who dared stand against them.

 

But the fantasies of his youth were quickly chased away by the memories of sharing command with General Hux…Braeda. How miserable had they both been, always being at odds, struggling for power, yet always forced to bow and grovel at the holographic feet of Snoke?

 

He had tried his hand at ruling from the dark side with Braeda, and it was an experience that he wasn’t keen on repeating.

 

“You will not be taking him anywhere.” Ben growled, flicking on the ignition of the lightsaber. It had been so long since he had used a weapon other than his own ragged lightsaber, he had nearly forgotten what it was like to hold a weapon that was so…stable…it felt controlled, and it felt powerful.

 

“It is not wise to disobey the Supreme Leader, Master Kylo.” Revan shook his head, reaching to his own belt to retrieve his own lightsaber.

 

“Don’t call me Master Kylo.” Ben sneered, holding his weapon at the ready, “Kylo Ren is dead.”

 

“Then I shall not mourn when I kill you.”

 

Revan was quick to strike the first blow, but Ben was more than prepared to blow. Yet as Ben locked blades with Revan Ren for the first time, he couldn’t help but wish he was fighting any of the other Knights of Ren, including Caedus.

 

Trading blows with Revan was, for want of another word, hard. There had been a time in which Kylo Ren had seen Revan as a comrade, and had shown favor on him. Kylo Ren had treated Revan as his own apprentice…among other things.

 

Revan knew his strengths in combat, and his weaknesses. His discipline, something that had always served to garner Kylo Ren’s approval, was keeping Ben from gaining the upper hand for very long.

 

It was by sheer luck that Ben was able to land the blow against Revan’s head, though the Knight’s skilled defense prevented anything more than a glancing blow, his helmet receiving most of the damage as Revan stumbled back several steps.

 

Ben should have struck while Revan was removing his helmet, ended it all right then. But instead he watched, in morbid fascination, as Revan tossed the damaged helmet aside before meeting Ben eye to eye.

 

Reven didn’t look like most would imagine a Knight of Ren to look (though then again, Ben could imagine he didn’t either). Most were caught off guard by soft wisps of fair hair and near gentle features of his face; a fact that the Rogue had used to advantage on more than one occasion.

 

There had been a time when Kylo Ren had enjoyed Revan’s piercing blue eyes; now Ben could only see them as cold.

 

“I don’t understand why you are fighting me, Master Kylo.” Revan’s words were as calm as they ever were, his soft features as much a mask as the discarded helmet. “Return with me to Supreme Leader, we will deliver the general to him together.”

 

“I will do no such thing.” Ben hissed, readjusting his grip on the lightsaber, basking in its blue glow, “And you will not lay another hand on him.”

 

Revan frowned, a small downward quirk in the corner of his lips, but Ben had learned to read Revan’s small gestures, “Why would you turn away from Supreme Leader, from the dark side, from the _Knights?_ _”_

 

“My reasons are my own.” Ben replied slowly, sparing a glance to Braeda’s fallen body. There was still no movement, but Ben could still feel the life that hummed within him.

 

But the small gesture was not lost on Revan, who followed Ben’s gaze.

 

“Him?” Revan’s words were heavy with disbelief, “You would leave behind your empire, your Knights, your _apprentice_ , for him?” But then Ben could see realization dawn on the young Knight’s face, distorted by fury, “ _Him?_ After all these years, it’s still about _him?_ Can the dead not remain dead?”

 

Ben hadn’t been expecting Revan to lash out as suddenly as he had, or with the rage he did. As it was, he was barely able to deflect the punishing blow meant for his head, hissing in pain as the red blade grazed his shoulder.

 

Revan’s blows carried twice the malice as they had before, his mask cracked and revealing rage in his cold eyes as he swung to kill, “I’ll kill him myself!”

 

The sheer notion that Revan meant to do Braeda harm was enough for Ben to see red himself. How _dare_ Revan threaten Braeda, how _dare_ he lay a hand on him? He would rend him limb from limb for even thinking of such horrors, Revan would regret the moment he _ever_ spoke ill of Braeda.

 

As Ben locked blades with Revan once more, he could feel the rage coursing through him. He would slaughter this insolent pup, make him rue the day he raised his weapon against him. He would _suffer_ in ways he would ever imagine in his darkest nightmares…

 

_Ben._

A shocked breath escaped Ben, his cloudy emotions evaporating at the voice that rippled through the Force to resonate in his being.

 

_There is emotion, yet there is peace._

 

How often had he repeated that mantra to himself as a child, hoping that it would chase away the dark thoughts in his mind? Could he truly achieve peace in the tempest of his emotions?

 

He didn’t have much of a choice. He refused to fall to the dark once more. He would not fall. Never again.

 

Closing his eyes, Ben allowed himself to reach out to the Force, feeling its presence around him even as Revan tried so desperately to press down on the locked blades and force Ben to yield, to submit. But the Force was so vast, so far reaching, its presence was more than Revan’s fury, Ben’s fear and rage, or even Snoke’s malice.

 

When Ben opened his eyes, the Force was already thrumming with life around him, guiding his lightsaber as he pressed back against Revan. The Rogue let loose a guttural cry of pain as his own weapon cut into his shoulder before he leapt away from Ben.

 

The calm facade was gone now, and Ben could see the beast within his former comrade. An injured animal waiting to strike.

 

But Ben was ready.

 

_There is emotion, yet there is peace_

Right block, pivot, left strike— a glancing blow.

_There is ignorance, yet there is knowledge_

Duck, right block, right strike— near miss.

_There is passion, yet there is serenity_

Left block, right block, lunge— the agonized cries of Revan as the blue lightsaber bit into his abdomen.

_There is chaos, yet there is harmony_

Dodge, left uppercut— red light streaked across the Ilum snow as the Ren lightsaber flew through the air, landing with a muted thud alongside its detached appendage.

_There is death, yet there is the Force_

Ben brought down one last punishing blow, his grandfather’s lightsaber cutting through the tender flesh of Reven’s chest and face as the younger man fell to the snow before him. And, for a while, there was nary a sound to be heard over the winds of Ilum save for Ben’s labored breathing, and the pained moans of the fallen Knight.

 

He wanted to end Revan’s life right there, and make him suffer for it. But he couldn’t. He would not give in to his rage again; let the Force decide Revan’s fate.

 

Ben had something more important to tend to.

 

His steps were slow, uneasy, as he approached the small tuft of red hair that was barely visible over the blankets of snow, and he could hear his heart sounding a war drum in his chest, resounding all the louder with every step. Could it all really be true? Could Braeda be lying buried in the snow before him? Could…could he have a chance to make things right?

 

Ben couldn’t couldn’t do much else but fall to his knees besides the body, his hands shivering as he tucked away his weapon, and fully quivering as he reached out, and pulled the body into his arms.

 

There might have been a time in which Kylo Ren would have rejoiced to see General Hux in such a state. The man’s hair, so meticulously combed in place, was now disheveled and sticking up at odd angles from sweat and snow. There was a ring of dark purple bruises that circled Hux’s neck as if it were the height of Naboo fashion. His lips were nearly blue from exposure to the Ilum temperatures little more than his undershirt.

 

But Ben’s eyes drifted to Hux’s arm, the one he had previously thought was completely natural. There was no hiding the gears and mechanisms of the prosthetic now, and Ben could see the shreds of silicate  that still fluttered around the general’s forearm and covered his false hand.

 

And in the workings of that arm, Ben could see a single, gentle, pulsing light.

 

A homing beacon.

 

“It is you…” Ben whispered, pulling Hux—no, Braeda close to his chest. Braeda had always been the one to hold Ben when the younger had needed it, but now Braeda’s body was so slight against Ben’s own broad shoulders, it was all too easy for Ben to shelter him from the snow.

 

And as Ben held Braeda close to his heart, his hand reached up to brush away the snowflakes that had gathered in Braeda’s hair and dusted his cheeks like pear blossoms. In that moment, bruised and disheveled and hypothermic, Braeda still looked like an angel.

 

Ben held his breath as the pale lashes that curtained Braeda’s eyes opened ever so slowly, revealing the slate blue eyes Ben never imagined he would gaze into again. After what seemed like an eternity, Braeda’s eyes focused on Ben.

 

“…I know you…” The words were little more than a croak, and had Ben not been listening with his entire being, no doubt he would have never heard them. “Ben…”

 

It was hearing his name from those lips that broke something in Ben. He couldn’t help it as his vision began to blur with unshed tears, his shoulders shaking with unreleased sobs, “I thought you were dead…” He choked out, gingerly touching Braeda’s pale cheek. Oh, how he wished for sunlight to bring back those freckles…

 

Braeda smiled weakly, his blue lips barely able to pull into the proper shape, “I’m not…” He murmured. Then, a delicate hand reached up to cradle Ben’s own cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear Ben had not realized had escaped his eyes, “I thought you were lost…”

 

Ben laid his hand over Braeda’s, pressing it against his cheek, “I’m not…I promise I’m not…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [dabs eye with hankie] They're finally together! Those poor babies! I hope the reunion was worth the wait! I apologize for torturing you all for the past few weeks. I don't know how many more chapters will be in this particular fic, but like always, let me know what you think, because let's face it, your comments keep this fic alive!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [looks at calendar day sheepishly] Uh yeah, sorry about this being so late guys! Real life set in this weekend, and this chapter was real sluggish coming together. But Wake Up, Sleeper has officially passed the 50k word count (all the WriMos out there can relate to the satisfaction of passing this point).
> 
> I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this chapter!

_The temple courtyard was aglow with moonlight, with the shadow of the pear tear the only black stain upon the pale earth. The silence of midnight settled over the temple as its occupants slept._

_Or rather, most of its occupants._

_“Where are we going?”_

_“Shh, Ben! You’ll wake everyone!”_

_Two shadows danced across the courtyard as their owners scurried to the darkened shelter of the pear tree, Braeda leading Ben by the hand._

_“Why did you bring me out here?” Ben asked curiously, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “And in the middle of the night?”_

_Braeda chuckled, reaching into pocket of his robe and withdrawing a chronometer._

_“Did you steal that from my uncle?”_

_“Borrowed, Ben! I’m putting it back when we go inside.” Braeda smiled softly, watching the display of the chronometer._

_Ben_ _’s own eyes drifted to the tiny device, watching as the numbers on its display ticked over to the start of a new standard day. When he looked back up at Braeda, the older teen was positively beaming._

_“Happy Birthday, Ben.”_

_Shock settled over Ben for a moment. Was it really his birthday? He quickly counted though the days and realized that, yes, it was. He grinned,_ _“It’s my birthday!”_

_Braeda nodded,_ _“I wanted to be the first to wish you happy birthday.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking away from Ben, “And I wanted to be the first to give you your gift.”_

_The thought of a gift on his birthday was enough to make Ben bounce on the balls of his feet,_ _“You got me a gift? What is it?”_

_“You have to close your eyes.” Braeda insisted, reaching out to cover Ben’s eyes, “It’s a surprise.”_

_Pushing away Braeda_ _’s hand, Ben laughed lightly, “Alright, alright!” He smiled, closing his eyes tightly, nearly vibrating with excitement._

_There was a span of several moments in which there was nothing but silence between the two of them. And it was enough to drive Ben insane._ _“Braeda, don’t keep me waiting!”_

_A slender finger pressed to his lips, accompanied by gentle shushing noises from Braeda. The warmth of Braeda_ _’s skin against his lips was enough to still Ben, his heart pounding in his chest. Even as Braeda moved his hand away, Ben could feel the lingering sensation of his friend’s touch._

_A moment passed in complete stillness, though Ben could feel Braeda_ _’s presence through the Force._

_Then, a slow, tentative caress as Braeda_ _’s lips touched Ben’s._

_Ben could feel his cheeks burning like the fires of Mustafar as he leaned into the kiss, throwing his arms around Braeda_ _’s neck when the older teen shyly attempted to pull away. He could feel Braeda’s hands come to rest on his hips, holding him close as the kiss stretched on for eternity._

_It was with great reluctance that the two parted, gasping quietly as they allowed their foreheads to rest against each other._

_“Happy birthday, Ben.” Braeda smiled softly, his cheeks flushed._

_And Ben couldn_ _’t reply with words, his heart aflutter in his chest as he beamed with all the brightness of the Tatooine twin suns._

_Best birthday present ever._

It was strange, how a memory could lurk in the back of one’s mind, lost to oblivion for years on end, before springing, unbidden, to the forefront of consciousness. How long ago had Ben locked away memories of his childhood…of his first few glimpses into adulthood with Braeda?

 

It was strange, how a memory seemingly forgotten, the memory of his first kiss, would decide to assert its presence in a situation as dire as kneeling in the Ilum snow, clutching a shivering and wounded Braeda to his chest.

 

Such an innocent memory. Such a not-so-innocent moment.

 

“Ben…” Braeda whispered, rubbing his thumb sluggishly against Ben’s cheekbone. Braeda may have had more to say, but the words were lost as his lips could scarcely form a recognizable shape.

 

Seeing the blue hue of Braeda’s lips (not to mention the tips of his fingertips), and feeling the slighter man quivering against him in violent shivers, was enough to pull Ben from his thoughts. Revan or not, Braeda was not safe; not here, exposed to the elements and suffering who knew what kind of injuries.

 

“Hang on, Braeda, you’re going to be alright...” Ben murmured, though whether the words were to comfort Braeda or himself, he would never know. He quickly moved his hand from Braeda’s own so that he could move his arm under Braeda’s shoulders (awkwardly moving around the false arm. With his other arm under the redhead’s knees, Ben hoisted Braeda up into a bridal carry.

 

Had Braeda always been so…frail? He had always seemed so healthy and athletic before…had that been a figment of Ben’s childhood adoration of Braeda, or had the years as Hux changed something in his friend?

 

As Ben slowly walked through the heavy snow, he spared a glance at Braeda. His heart stopped when he realized his friend’s eyes were no longer open, his head lolling to one side. It was only when Ben took a moment to feel the Force thrumming around Braeda that Ben allowed himself to relax.

 

To think that Braeda had been by his side for so many years, and had, not only hidden from him, but had hidden from Snoke and the entire First Order. How had Ben not sensed Braeda’s presence? How had he not felt their bond, as unique and intimate as it was?

 

Ben sighed, realizing he wouldn’t be able to find the answers he sought until Braeda woke once more, and return to the task of finding shelter.

 

And, given the fact that shelter was a rare commodity in that particular stretch of Ilum, Ben was forced to return to the First Order freighter. 

* * *

 

 

When Ian Thanisson was twelve years old, he was in a fist fight with an older student at the Academy. Though, perhaps it was less of a fist fight and more of the older student had punched Ian hard enough to break his nose.

 

The student only got two demerits. Ian spent the night in the Infirmary. And the med droid who had set his nose had shown no mercy, simply jerking the nose into proper position.

 

He thought nothing could hurt more than that night in the Infirmary.

 

He was wrong.

 

Everything hurt. His head throbbed, he couldn’t feel his legs, and his body felt like it was being slowly crushed. It took herculean effort to fill his lungs with air, and the exercise sent searing pain through his chest. His skull protested even as his mind processed thought, which only escalated to full on screaming as he forced himself to open his eyes.

 

It was still. Save for the snowflakes that drifted in from the snowstorm, there was no movement inside the tiny freighter. Vaguely, he could see his fellow officers sprawled out on the cold floor, or even slumped against the freighter’s wall.

 

None of them were moving.

 

Slowly, Ian reached out his hand to touch the shoulder closest to him, building the strength and courage to shake his comrade slowly.

 

Nothing.

 

It was silent.

 

The urge to speak was Ian’s first reaction to overwhelming silence. Communication was the key to any successful operation, that was what he had always been taught. Without communication, an officer was little more than an animal, less than human.

 

But what should he say? What was he communicating? To whom was he attempting to establish communication?

 

…Was there anyone around to hear him?

 

After a long moment of deliberation (despite the protests from his throbbing head), Ian decided “help” would be a good starting word. It was short, simple, and understandable message.

 

“He…” Ian could feel his throat burning as his mouth sluggishly formed around the syllable, and his thoughts flashed to the figure in black that had held him aloft by his neck without so much as laying a finger on him. But he could not allow himself to be deterred.

 

“Help…”

 

Only silence answered him.

 

Ian swallowed sluggishly, taking another painstaking breath before trying again, “Someone…anyone…answer me!”

 

And, as the silence continued to smother any possible response Ian may have received, he was overwhelmed with the sensation that he was well and truly alone.

 

It terrified him. After all, when one grew up in the Academy, and began serving in the First Order upon graduation, what did one truly know about being alone? There were always other officers around him, other movement, other sounds. Other signs of life.

 

Then, a break in the silence.

 

A faint crunch. Distant, but still present.

 

Then another. And another.

 

Footsteps crunching through the snow. They were approaching.

 

Someone was approaching.

 

The hope that had begun to swell in Ian’s chest was dashed by the memory of what happened the last time someone approached the craft. And fear was quick to replace the hope.

 

He could see the hulking outline of the dark figure as it approached the gaping hold left by the Knight of Ren, and Ian could feel his heart beating furiously in his aching chest.

 

Danger. And he was wounded. He was compromised, he was vulnerable. He couldn’t be defenseless.

 

He needed a weapon. And damn it all if he wasn’t going to get his hands on one.

 

His eyes drifted to the officer’s side arm on the body closest to him (Rodinion—he could see the red hair more clearly now). Perfect.

 

If only his legs would obey him. But there was no time to dwell on his weakness, he would adjust.

 

With one hand already clenched over the lieutenant’s shoulder, Ian pulled himself over to Rodinon’s side before reaching with his free hand to grab at the fire officer’s belt.

 

His fingers fumbled with the holster, already sluggish fingers attempting to handle an unfamiliar mechanism. And with each passing moment, he could see from the corner of his eye that the dark figure was closing in on the freighter.

 

By the time he was able to get his hand around the pistol, he could hear the low groaning of the destroyed metal of the hatch door as the intruder entered the freighter. Now, Ian could hear his heart pounding against his ear drums as adrenalin began to take over. His mind ran a lightyear in a second as he attempted to remember everything he had ever been taught about firing a pistol.

 

The footsteps echoed against the cold steel, practically behind him, and Ian thought his heart had skipped a beat. His thoughts stopped as he whipped the pistol towards the intruder, ignoring the protests of his aching body, and fired.

 

Ian had fired a pistol before (it was mandatory for every recruit in the academy to pass a weaponry course), but there was still a very distinct difference between firing in a simulator and firing at a living target. Even the slight recoil from Rodinon’s pistol was enough to send jarring pain up Ian’s arm as the bolt erupted from the end of the pistol.

 

Though the pain was nothing compared to the heavy weight of dread when Ian saw the bolt seemingly froze in midair.

 

No…not again…

 

But with the glow of the blaster bolt illuminating the freighter wreckage, Ian could see his attacker more clearly.

 

It was a stranger, he knew that much. He wasn’t wearing the black robes of the Knights of Ren; in fact, his clothing looked downright ordinary. He could see the dark hair that framed the stranger’s strong features, which were drawn up in surprise (and no doubt anger, Ian had become quite adept in identifying anger).

 

And, in his arms, Ian could see the lifeless body of General Hux…or whoever he was.

 

Fear gripped Ian once more, squeezing the pistol’s trigger again and again in hopes of striking the general’s attacker. But, much like the first bolts, each blast remained suspended in the air as the stranger stepped around the deadly bolts.

 

“Stop that.” The stranger finally spoke. Ian could feel the pistol quiver in his hand slightly before the weapon was wrenched from his hand, flying through the air before clattering uselessly against the far wall.

 

The fear was quickly vanishing, only to be completely replaced by the overwhelming feeling of despair. It was another Knight of Ren, who else could do such unnatural thing?

 

He was going to die…

 

He didn’t want to die like this…

 

He didn’t want to die alone…

 

“You’re not going to die, but I couldn’t have you keep shooting at me.” The stranger muttered, kneeling as he slowly lowered the general to the floor. The hovering blasts, meanwhile, sprang back to life as if they had never stopped, vanishing as they exited the gaping hole in the freighter hatch.

 

Ian froze, his eyes fixed on the pale features of the stranger. The newcomer, however, was paying Ian no mind, his attention focused on the general. The man seemed to mind the general’s wounds, his hands ghosting over them delicately.

 

A large hand hesitated over the general’s side, where blood had begun to seep through his undershirt, before moving to Hux’s face, gingerly brushing away the strands of hair that had fallen in the general’s eyes. Such a simple gesture, yet Ian couldn’t help but stare, transfixed by the quiet tenderness of that moment.

 

“How many of you are still alive?”

 

The petty officer realized with a start that the stranger’s attention had returned to him, his dark eyes seemingly peering into his mind. And, based on what Ian knew about those Force-users, he didn’t doubt that the man could. But Ian couldn’t form an answer for him. He didn’t know the answer to the man’s question…he didn’t know if he _wanted_ to know.

 

“I…I don’t…” The words were stuck in his throat.

 

The dark eyes seemed to take pity on him, standing slowly and walking towards him in long strides. However, instead of going to Ian’s side, the man knelt instead by Rodinon’s body. He was able to move the redhead onto his back easily, placing his fingers on Rodinon’s neck. He stilled for a moment, his eyes drifting closed as he breathed in and out, in and out. When his eyes opened once more, he removed his fingers from the officer’s neck.

 

“He’ll be fine. He may even wake up soon.” He nodded, moving to the next closest body, repeating the process.

 

And Ian watched. He watched as this stranger placed his hand over each of the other men. Men with whom Ian had attended the Academy, men with whom Ian had served side by side on the _Finalizer_ and _Starkiller._ Men with whom Ian had committed the highest treason against the First Order; they had defected together, they stole a ship together, they abducted their commanding officer together.

 

He didn’t think they would die together.

 

Darkness was creeping at the corners of his vision, his limbs feeling heavier and heavier by the moment. Was he loosing consciousness? He couldn’t recall what the sensation had felt like when the Knight of Ren had attacked, the thoughts becoming too difficult to string together. He just needed to rest his head…

 

His cheek touched the cold floor, and already his eyelids held the weight of a small star. He just needed to close his eyes for a moment…just a moment…

 

As the darkness overtook his vision, he could barely hear the deep baritone of the stranger calling to him, “No! Don’t pass out again, Thanisson, stay with me!”

 

The man’s words were already warped to the point of obscurity, and Ian could only form one last thought before oblivion took him.

 

_How does he know my name?_

* * *

 

 

Of course Thanisson would pass out after shooting at him. Ben took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he looked around the frieghter’s interior. Revan must have been feeling especially vindictive, if the torn metal and strewn bodies were ay indication. Or one of the officers had provoked him.

 

Idiots.

 

“Be nice, Ben.”

 

Ben’s gaze darted back to Braeda, who was watching him with the same steady stare Ben had grown used to receiving from Hux during his time as Kylo Ren. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben murmured, moving back to Braeda’s side.

 

“The officers, they don’t deserve your anger. You forget, Ben. You’re thoughts are not hard for me to detect. You’ve always been a loud thinker.” Braeda slowly began to shift his weight onto his elbow to bring himself to a sitting position.

 

“You shouldn’t be moving with your injuries…” Ben reached out a hand to still Braeda’s movements, but the redhead simply shook his head.

 

“I’ve survived worse.”

 

Both men froze at the words, so carelessly spoken, and Ben could feel his stomach twist into a knot.

 

_“I told you Ben, you’re going to have to kill me first.”_

_“Very well.”_

Had those truly been the last words he had spoken to Braeda? Had the last time he laid eyes on his best friend, his _everything_ , been during his darkest moment?

 

Braeda shook his head, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean it like that…”

 

Ben couldn’t help but scoff, “After everything I’ve done, and you ask me to forgive you?” He shook his head, falling heavily to his knees by Braeda’s side. “I…I can’t even begin to express how sorry—”

 

“Ben.” Braeda sat upright, his mech arm trailing uselessly at his side, “As overdue as this particular conversation is, and how _desperately_ I’ve wanted to have this conversation, I doubt now is the time.” He gently touched his bleeding side, “When we have this conversation, and believe me, we will have this conversation, I want to be completely healthy, not to mention safely back with the Resistance.”

 

“You’re probably right…” Ben sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped. Then, he smiled wryly, “Then again, you always were…”

 

Braeda responded with a small chuckle, “Not always…”

 

They didn’t say anything for a while, simply sitting in silence while Ben gathered his thoughts. There so many things he wanted to ask, but no question seemed to completely cover everything he wanted to know. How could he unravel the past fifteen years…

 

“You became a mole?” The question was off of Ben’s lips before he could stop it and, in hindsight, it was such a foolish, obvious question.

 

“I did.” Braeda replied quietly. “And I’m not sure if I should be proud or disgusted with how well I performed.”

 

Ben shook his head slowly in disbelief, “General Hux…Co-commander of the First Order…”

 

“I made you a promise, Ben, all those years ago,” Braeda looked at him evenly, “Do you remember?”

 

_“No matter what happens to you, I will always come and save you.”_

“I remember.” Ben whispered, “I told you that you didn’t have the power to stop me from going dark…from falling…”

 

“And I said—”

 

“And you said that you would find that power.” Ben hung his head, “…Please don’t tell me you became General Hux just to save my worthless life…”

 

“I didn’t become General Hux just to save your worthless life.”

 

Well, didn’t that sentence have a bit of sting to it?

 

Braeda’s flesh hand gently rested on Ben’s shoulder, “Don’t forget, Ben, that this war is bigger than the two of us. I became a mole to help the Resistance, to defeat the First Order. At least…that’s what I told myself…” He sighed heavily, allowing his head to rest on Ben’s shoulder, “The moment I first saw you, or rather, saw Kylo Ren…I knew I couldn’t leave you without fighting for you. I could feel it in the Force that you were under that mask somewhere…I never thought I would truly understand Master Skywalker’s stories about his determination to redeem your grandfather, how he _knew_ of the goodness that lurked inside that Sith heart of his, but I did…I understood it all so perfectly…”

 

Wetness began to blossom against Ben’s shoulder, and Ben could feel his heart breaking at the thought of Braeda shedding tears over him.

 

“When I saw you, fighting those Stormtroopers alongside your father…I was so happy…I was so happy because I could see you, could see _you_ the way I always remembered you.” A heavy breath shook Braeda’s slender shoulders, “I barely felt that lightsaber…I was so transfixed watching you…I had already accepted that I was to either die on _Starkiller_ or worse…Being killed by Ben Solo, in comparison, was not such a terrible fate…”

 

“Braeda…” Ben gently grasped his friend’s shoulder, pushing him just far enough so that he could get a good look at his face. Seeing the redness of Braeda’s eyes, and the wet streaks that painted his cheeks, confirmed Ben’s suspicions that tears had actually been shed, were _being_ shed by Braeda. Ben moved a hand to cradle Braeda’s face, brushing away a tear with his thumb.

 

The redhead blinked away the tears new tears already forming in his eyes, “I’m sorry, I think I’ve displayed more emotion in the past twelve hours than I have the past fifteen years. I must be exhausted—”

 

“Braeda.” Ben pressed his tear-moistened thumb to Braeda’s lips, only removing it when Braeda allowed his lips to drift shut and still completely. “No more talking…”

 

Soulful brown met peaceful blue. And, for a singular, still moment in time, that was all they needed.

 

It was only when Ben heard the familiar sound of the _Falcon_ _’s_ landing sequence that he forced himself to tear his gaze from Braeda. “That’ll be Dameron…” he muttered.

 

Braeda nodded, leaning against Ben slowly, “Rey’s with him too…I can feel her…”

 

“Yes…” Ben allowed himself the luxury of trailing his hand up and down Braeda’s back. “Shame we couldn’t make a trip to the caves…get her her first crystal…”

 

“Or FN-2187.” Braeda nodded, “But I doubt this is the best timing for a jaunt to the caves, no matter how badly I’d like to see the get their first crystals.”

 

Ben allowed his brow to furrow as he pieced together Braeda’s words.

 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t felt his presence in the Force.”

 

Thinking back on it, Ben had. Perhaps that had been what had caused him to stare at FN…Finn so intently during the raid on Jakku. “How did I not realize it before…”

 

“Because I hid him.” Braeda murmured softly, “I hid the two of us from anyone’s sight.”

 

Ben shook his head slowly, allowing his fingers to drift to Braeda’s hair, “Is there ever going to be a point in which you don’t surprise me?”

 

“I like to think not.”  Ben could feel Braeda’s cheek tighten into a small smile. Then Braeda relaxed into a heavy sigh, “You know they won’t react well to me when they see who I am, Ben. To them, I’m still General Hux.”

 

He did know that.

 

* * *

 

 

There were several things Poe expected to see when he went to provide back up for Ben (as if he would allow Finn or Rey to do such a thing, especially since neither were armed). Maybe some sort of lightsaber duel between the Knight of Ren that got away and their spy. Or perhaps complete carnage of the First Order officers in the wake of the Knight of Ren. Or perhaps nothing, as Ben, Ren, took the opportunity to escape with the spy in hand to return to Snoke.

 

But of all the things Poe expected to find, as he stepped onto the small freighter that must have once served as an escape ship, seeing Ben cuddling with General Hux of the First Order was not one of them.

 

Poe actually had to close his eyes, as if the image was the result of too many assignments on too little sleep, before opening his eyes once more.

 

Nope, that was still the First Order General, Resistance Enemy Number 1 (officially, at least), curled up against Ben’s side, with Ben’s arm wrapped around his waist.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, blaster at the ready, staring at them, but soon enough, Ben looked up to meet Poe’s gaze.

 

“I can explain…” Ben began, though his words seemed to fail him as he looked back between Poe and Hux.

 

Poe wondered how mad General Organa would be with him if he shot her son… annoyed definitely…maybe mildly upset…

 

“Ben, you are not making this situation any less awkward.” Hux shook his head, sluggishly sitting upright to meet Poe’s gaze, “And, while I’m sure you don’t want to hear this from me, mister Dameron, I am glad that FN-2187 was able to help you escape safely…or rather, relatively safely.”

 

There was a long moment in which Poe had to ponder his life choices, wondering exactly which ones led him this moment: him standing in front of the two men who had been responsible for his torture while they cuddled like newlyweds.

 

“I changed my mind, I’m going to shoot you both.” Poe muttered, though there was no fire behind his words.

 

Hux chuckled sardonically, “If I were in your position, mister Dameron, I’m sure I would be just as…flustered.” The general slowly began to shift to his feet, “Help me stand, Ben. I don’t want to open this side wound, I’m afraid Caedus might have nicked something important.”

 

Ben was to his feet in an instant, helping Hux to his feet. The general was slighter than Poe remembered, his frame slender and willowy without his formal uniform. Granted, the man still towered over him, but seeing the most powerful man in the First Order shivering and leaning against Ben for support, it made the man seem more…human.

 

Though, judging by the hunk of mech hanging from his side, perhaps he wasn’t completely human…

 

“I don’t suppose this would be the best time to introduce myself.” Hux shook his head slowly.

 

“Oh no, I don’t need any sort of introduction.” Poe turned his attention to Ben, “Are you telling me this is him?”

 

Ben nodded, “This is Braeda. I’m sure of it.”

 

Great…General Organa was going to have a field day over this one. “First Kylo Ren, now General Hux…tell me, who the kriff is running the First Order _now?_ _”_

 

Hux and Ben shared a look, and no doubt a thousand words passed between those eyes without either opening their mouths.

 

“To be honest, I’m not sure…” Ben shook his head.

 

Hux smirked, “Whatever will the First Order do without us?”

 

“Is it too much to hope that it’ll just crash and burn?” Poe sighed in exasperation.

 

Hux, or Braeda, or whatever his name was, shook his head, “I’m afraid it won’t be that bad, but they will certainly be in a tailspin for quite some time, especially while they determine how they’re going to spin my disappearance.” He winced slightly as he took a few tentative steps forward, “After they figure that out, they’ll try to address the chain of command, but I’d make a conservative estimate, they probably won’t be able to launch any major operations for at least two standard months…”

 

“Braeda, you’ve just had a nasty run in with a Knight of Ren after escaping the First Order, you don’t need to be thinking two steps ahead right now…” Ben muttered, helping the redhead to the opening of the freighter.

 

“Two Knights of Ren, thank you very much.” Hux muttered, “And I always have to be thinking two steps ahead, if not three or four…it’s how I stayed alive.”

 

“Two?” Ben frowned, confused.  


“Caedus Ren paid us a visit long before the rest of you got to the party.” Hux shrugged his good shoulder, “Mitaka and I took care of him.”

 

“You and Mitaka?”

 

“Mhmm…” Hux hummed lowly, casting an even look back into the freighter, “We’re bringing the officers, by the way.”

 

Poe followed the redhead’s gaze, looking at the bodies that littered the freighter. Not exactly a pretty sight, “They still alive?”

 

“Most of them.” Ben drawled, “Though some are in better shape than others…I’m surprised Mitaka isn’t dead already, given the damage Revan did to his neck.”

 

“If he were fully human, he probably wouldn’t have survived.” Hux nodded, “But, as luck would have it, Mitaka is half Keshian; made of sterner stuff.”

 

It was Poe’s turn to frown, “Keshian? I thought the First Order didn’t allow aliens.”

 

“They don’t.” Hux replied, a devious spark in his eye, “Which makes Mitaka an especially juicy piece of gossip. But, I don’t know about you gentlemen, but I would like to get off this hunk of ice and soak in a bacta tank for a few days, so perhaps we could postpone this talk for later, hm?”

 

A low groan interrupted before either Ben or Poe could answer Hux.

 

“That’ll be Rodinion, I believe.” Ben drawled.

 

“I’m impressed, Ben, I didn’t think you knew all of the officers’ names.” Hux smirked as an auburn officer began to stir on the floor.

 

“I don’t, I’ve been pulling the information from their minds.” Ben chuckled, looking at Poe, “Do you think you could get the lieutenant to his feet? He’s the only officer without any serious injuries, we may need him to carry some of his cohorts.”

 

Poe always thought it would be a snowflake’s chance on Tatooine before he found himself willingly complying with a command from Kylo Ren, but by this point in his life, Poe had been forced to accept that life was so damn full of surprises, he’d never be able to fully grasp it. And so, with an exasperated sigh, Poe made his way to the waking officer, kneeling by the officer’s side and shaking his shoulder gently. “Hey, time to get up, buddy.”

 

The officer groaned as consciousness returned to him, picking his head up off the floor to look at Poe. “Kriff…”

 

“My sentiments exactly.” Poe muttered, “Come on, the sooner you’re on your feet, the sooner we can get you off this ice ball.”

 

* * *

 

 

It took a few trips between Ben, Poe, and Rodinon (under Poe’s supervision, of course) to get all of the living officers on board, not to mention sequestered into one room. And damn, was Poe exhausted.

 

It was a small blessing that Finn hadn’t caught a glimpse of Hux during the Defector Shuffle they had performed. Spy or no, it was going to be very difficult to explain to anyone why they had General Hux in their custody. Though Poe knew he’d have to fill Finn in on the situation before he found out for himself. He wasn’t about to start keeping secrets from Finn…

 

Poe shook his head, moving to the pilot’s seat and grabbing the com, “Iolo, Karé, how we doing up there?”

 

 _“Kriffin’ annoyed, Dameron.”_ Iolo’s voice bit back in a harsh grunt.

 

 _“I’m with Iolo on this one, Commander.”_ Karé echoed, “ _This TIE is a damn wily one; we can_ _’t pin it down.”_

“You’re kidding me right now.” Poe shook his head, “You know what? Forget it, you two. We have people on board who need serious medical attention, and we’ve wasted enough time as it is. Just provide cover for me until I can get this hunk of junk into hyperspace.” With that, Poe began flicking on every switch he recognized to start the _Falcon_ _’s_ ignition sequence.

 

There was harsh static on the com, a sound that Poe had learned to recognize as Iolo’s bad habit of sighing heavily into the com, _“So is there a reason why we provided a rescue for a bunch of First Order officers, not to mention medical attention?”_

_“Or why the Knights of Ren are involved?”_

“There is.” Poe replied, “But I have to double check with General Organa before I can give you the full debrief. But please be advised, when we land, you’re not tell anyone about what transpired here.”

 

 _“Poe, come on. We aren’t rookies here.”_ Karé replied, _“We know an off-the-record op when we see one.”_

_“We just usually know what exactly it is.”_

 

“I know.” Poe sighed, gunning the ignition on the _Falcon_ to get the antique craft airborne, “But trust me…if you get read into this…you may just wish you hadn’t been.”

 

_“That sounds like a challenge, Dameron.”_

 

“We’ll see, Iolo.” Poe smiled despite himself, doing his best to keep the ship steady while avoiding the firefight, “Alright, commencing radio silence until we reach the Ileenium system.”

 

_“Copy that. Arana, over and out.”_

_“Copy. Kun, over and out.”_

“Dameron, over and out.” Poe shook his head before turning his attention from the com to getting out of Ilum’s atmosphere. Honestly, he just hoped they could all get back to D’Qar without any more surprises.

 

It wasn’t long before Ben returned from…wherever he was (no doubt he had been reluctant to part from the “prisoners”—or rather, one prisoner in particular), the taller man sinking into the copilot seat with a heavy _thump_. The two of them sat in silence for quite some time, staring forward though the _Falcon_ _’s_ visor.

 

“So…” Ben deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “Who talks first? Do I talk first? You talk first?”

 

If looks could kill, Poe didn’t doubt he’d have a hard time explaining to General Organa why she no longer had a son. But, luckily for Poe (and perhaps more luckily for Ben), the only strength contained in his glower was that of annoyance.

 

Ben cleared his throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that…”

 

Poe rolled his eyes, “We’re almost home, don’t make me punch you again.” He grumbled, “We’re going to have enough explaining to do when we get to D’Qar, I don’t want to have to explain to your mother why your nose got so swollen, it developed its own system.”

 

“Fair enough.” Ben nodded, issuing the sequence to launch the _Falcon_ into hyperspace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they're finally on their way home! Lots of emotions dealt with in this chapter, and I used Thanisson's POV for the first time, hopefully that worked out alright. 
> 
> Like I said, this chapter was a real struggle to put together (more so than previous chapters I've "struggled" with). I think that may be because this particular story arc is coming to a close, and we have officially reached the "Falling Action" portion of plot chart. I'm thinking the next chapter may very well be the closing chapter of Wake Up, Sleeper (though I wouldn't mourn just yet).
> 
> And, like always guys, let me know what you think, or what things you think should be included in the future. Your comments are my lifeblood, and they never fail to make my day.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...I really don't know what to say...I feel like I should be saying something profound or meaningful, but all I can say is that I hope you all enjoy!

General Leia Organa had hoped that the war would have ended after Endor. She had hoped that perhaps she could focus on her newly formed family and have a normal life. But the Force seemed hell-bent on staying out of balance. Thirty years, and they were no closer to peace than they had been when the Empire had been in power.

 

But this time, she had help. She had Han, even if that nerf-herder was getting himself hurt as usual. She had her son back, and oh, could she not wait to properly welcome him home. She had her brother, lurking in the furthest reaches of space, waiting for the most dramatically opportune moment to make his grand entrance.

 

And she had Braeda. She had her brother’s first and most prized padawan. She had her determined and cunning mole. She had perhaps the one person in the entire universe who loved Ben as much as she did.

 

And he was coming home. Leia wasn’t sure if the fluttering in her stomach was anticipation of seeing the boy-turned-spy, or fear of what condition he might be in. Though, to be fair, her nerves may have simply been the product of standing in front of her closest comrades, and the emergency meeting she had called.

 

“Fifteen years ago,” Leia began slowly, resting her hands on the table before her, “I began an operation without the knowledge or approval of any other officer in the Resistance.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for only a moment before continuing, “I placed a mole within the ranks of the First Order.”

 

To say the other leaders were surprised would have been the understatement of the millennium.

 

“A mole, are you serious, Organa?” Admiral Statura sat forward in his seat, “Do you have _any_ idea what kind of risk that was?”

 

Ackbar shook his head, “We should have been informed about this, General Organa.”

 

“I do, and I did, know the risks at the time.” Leia nodded. She knew what she had done had betrayed the trust of those who had placed her trust in her over so many years. “And I’m sure you could all appreciate the risks that my mole was under…I couldn’t afford the knowledge of his existence to reach the wrong hands.”

 

“Who was informed of this operation?” Ackbar pressed, the stare from his large eyes all the more piercing.

 

Leia shook her head, “Only three people knew of the mole’s existence: me, the mole, and my brother.”

 

“General Organa,” Came the soft voice of Lieda Motha, seated in the chair next to Leia, “Why was Master Skywalker informed of this operation, but we were not?”

 

“Because, Lieda, it was his padawan he volunteered for the assignment.”

 

Leia wasn’t a fool, she could see how her colleagues stiffened at the mention of padawans. These men and women had served with Leia since the days of the Empire (or shortly after the fall, in Lieda’s case, eager to carry on her mother’s legacy), they knew the pain she suffered after the massacre of Luke’s temple…even if they had been led to believe that Ben, too, had perished in the bloodshed…she hadn’t been able to speak the truth to anyone…

 

Ackbar leaned forward, his arm resting heavily on the table, “Are you telling me that there was a survivor? One of your brother’s pupils survived the attack?”

 

“Yes, there were two survivors. No…there were three…” Leia nodded, doing her best to keep her emotions at bay, “Through the tireless efforts of Braeda, my spy— _our spy_ _…_ my son was recovered from the First Order.”

 

By now, Statura could not remain in his seat, “Are you telling us Ben survived?”

 

“I am.” A small smile crept onto Leia’s face before she could stop it, “He was recovered from _Starkiller_ base after the attack by Finn and Han…I was able to briefly speak to him before I sent him, Commander Dameron, and his team on another off-the-record operation.”

 

Lieda raised an eyebrow, “What operation is that?”

 

“Braeda’s role in the First Order, for reasons unknown, became compromised enough that he felt he was forced to flee.” Leia sighed heavily, “He was able to send one last Mayday message to me, informing me that he had been wounded, and that the Knights of Ren were in pursuit. I apologize for not informing you of the situation sooner, but time was of the essence, as Braeda is just as big a prize to the First Order as he is to us. I could not allow the Knights of Ren to capture Braeda. I can only hope that Commander Dameron and his team are returning with Braeda.”

 

A murmur of understanding rippled through the room, accompanied by several nods of agreement. Well, at least they were all in the same accord when it came to that…

 

“There is…one more thing…” Leia took a deep breath, bracing herself.

 

Ackbar seemed to read her body language well, as he, too, seemed to tense, “What is it, General?”

 

“It would seem that Braeda was traveling with several officers of the First Order at the time that they were attacked by the Knights of Ren.” Leia admitted, “I do not know the intentions of these officers, only that our spy is among them…”

 

“And are we simply going to bring these officers onto our base?” Statura frowned, “As you just said, General, we do not know their intentions.”

 

“No, but unless you have any other suggestions, we will have to.” Leia nodded firmly, “If need be, they will be political prisoners until we develop a more concrete plan to move forward with them. I doubt the First Order will be in much position to launch a massive attack.”

 

Lieda took a deep breath, “I imagine we don’t have much time to prepare?”

 

Leia shook her head.

 

“Very well.” The younger woman stood slowly, with all the grace of her mother before her, “What steps would you like us to take?”

 

“Have Doctor Kalonia prepare for patients, though I can’t say how many.” Leia shook her head, “And have troops prepare some rooms to serve as holding cells.”

 

“Are we informing the troops?” Ackbar eyed her intently as the officers began to stand.

 

Leia only paused for a moment, pondering the pros and cons of revealing Braeda’s existance to the rest of the Resistance.

 

“Yes. Inform the troops.”

 

It was time for Braeda to stop being a dirty little secret.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey wasn’t sure just how long she had stood in the corridor, staring at the door before her as if, should she will it enough, she could peer through the barrier.

 

He was on the other side of that door.

 

Braeda. The officer. The spy. The padawan. The one man who had the answers she wanted...needed.

 

“Rey!”

 

Reluctantly pulling her attention away from the door, Rey turned to look at Finn as he made his way towards her.

 

“You shouldn’t be here, Rey.” Finn stopped at Rey’s side, pointedly avoiding looking at the door.

 

“Neither should you.” Rey couldn’t help but smile, eyes drifting back towards the door, “And you can’t tell me you aren’t curious to see him.”

 

Finn shook his head, “Your spy friend may be in there, but there are also a number of First Order officers in there…I’m not exactly eager to see them.”

 

“They can’t tell you what to do, Finn.” Rey shook her head, “Not anymore. You don’t belong to them.”

 

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

 

“Exactly.” She could feel Finn’s dark eyes watching her, considering her words, but offering none of his own in return. Finally, Rey clenched her fists, “I have to know, Finn. All I’ve been able to gather about my past is bits and pieces of conversation thrown out in between moments of rushing from one danger to another.” With a deep breath, she took a step forward.

 

Finn was quick to rush to her side, grabbing her arm gently, “Why do you have to ask him? Why can’t you ask…anyone else?”

 

Rey gave Finn an incredulous look, “Ben can’t tell me why I survived that night, nor can he tell me why my family left me on Jakku…not unless I let him in my head, and I’m not too keen on doing that…I don’t trust him that much yet.” She shook her head, “If what they’re saying is true…that Braeda and I survived the massacre at Skywalker’s temple…then he is the only one who can answer my questions.”

 

After a moment, Finn nodded, “Alright then…but I’m staying with you, ok? I’m not leaving you.”

 

Rey watched Finn, taking in his determined expression, “I know…thank you…”

 

With that, Rey reached out and opened the door.

 

* * *

 

 

Another officer died since they had taken off. Ensign Delteff, Hux recalled vaguely as he felt the young man’s life flicker before releasing to the Force as he succumbed to his wounds.

 

He could only hope that the ensign had never regained consciousness, if his broken jaw and back were anything to go by, not to mention his lacerated liver and punctured lung. If nothing else, he hoped Delteff had passed peacefully into the Force.

 

Hux sat propped up against the wall of the makeshift bunk room, a request he had made to Ben when he had been brought in with the rest of the officers. He wanted to watch over the young officers the best he could, even if he couldn’t do much to save them from their injuries.

 

“So what are they going do to us?”

 

Hux looked away from Delteff’s body to look at Rodinon. The former lieutenant was the only officer who had woken up so far, sitting against the wall opposite Hux with his elbows resting on his knees.

 

“Are you referring to the pilot?” Hux asked slowly, watching the young man who had nearly strangled him less than an hour previous.

 

“The Resistance, Hux, or whoever you are.” Rodinon shook his head, running a shaking hand through his hair. “What the hell is the Resistance going to do to the lot of us?”

 

Rodinon was an unusually emotional officer, from what Hux had gathered of the man in the time he had known him (both as an officer and a defector), and those emotions radiated off of him like a solar flare.

 

The man was scared.

 

“I’ll be honest, you will probably be taken as prisoner at first.” Hux began slowly, “Those of you who need serious medical attention will be brought to Medical first, but since that doesn’t apply to you…”

 

“Right.” Rodinon shook his head, resting his head on his knees, “Interrogations it is, then…”

 

Hux watched the younger man for several moments, his mind gathering the horrific images of torture instruments and interrogation tactics, no doubt cultivated by years of Academy training propaganda. If only he knew how true to reality those images were of the First Order’s own tactics… “Rodinon.”

 

The fire officer slowly picked up his head, eying Hux warily, “Yeah?”

 

“Listen to what I’m going to tell you, I know you and I are not on the best of terms, and I imagine that won’t change anytime soon. But I do want to help you.” Hux nodded slowly, running his good hand through his hair. No doubt his hair was a disaster at this point, but no sense fussing over it, “We both know you’re going to be the first one they talk to. My advice? Just tell them the truth.”

 

Rodinon blinked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“What is the truth supposed to mean?” Hux raised an eyebrow, “Wow, the Academy sure doesn’t mess around with training you lot…” He shook his head, “What I mean, Rodinon, is, for every question they ask…just tell them the truth. Not what you think they want to hear, but the actual truth.”

 

“What if they don’t like the truth?” Rodinon raised an eyebrow, “What happens if they want information I don’t have?”

 

“Then tell them that.”

 

“And if they don’t like my answers?”

 

“They like the truth.” Hux replied simply, resisting the urge to smile, “And, one more thing, Rodinon.”

 

A tired sigh, “Yeah?”

 

“What are you fighting for?”

 

“What?” The younger man furrowed his brow in confusion.

 

“We’re at war, if you have forgotten.” Hux shook his head, “And I’m sure you don’t want to blindly fight for a cause, First Order or Resistance. So while you’re in that holding cell, I suggest you think about what you want for your future, and how you plan on fighting for it.”

 

Rodinon didn’t get a chance to answer, as the door to their bunk room slid open with a pneumatic hiss, drawing both of their attentions.

 

It was a relief to see Rey unharmed, seeing as the last time Hux had seen the girl…young woman, she had been bound to a torture table for interrogation. And seeing FN-2187 by her side was nearly enough to make Hux beam. They were together, and they were safe. That was all he could ask of them at this point…

 

Rey’s eyes scanned the room slowly, considering each officer before quickly moving on until her eyes finally rested on him. Her eyes met his, and Hux could feel the youngling he had known so long ago yearning to come forth, tugging at their bond.

 

FN-2187 eyes, however, did not share Rey’s warm gaze. As Rey attempted to step into the room, closer to Hux, FN-2187 stepped in front of her, one hand on her arm while the other cradled his blaster, leveled directly at Hux.

 

“What are you doing?” Rey hissed, “That’s Braeda!”

 

“That’s General Hux, Rey.” The former soldier replied, “He’s the head of the First Order.”

 

Hux sighed, not having the patience to watch the two of them bicker, “If it makes you both feel vindicated, you’re both correct. I am Braeda, Rey, and I _was_ General Hux, FN-2187.”

 

“It’s Finn, now.” The blaster hadn’t moved an iota from its position.

 

Hux raised an eyebrow, “Finn, huh?” He hadn’t really considered it, but in retrospect, it made complete sense that, somewhere along the line, a name would have been given to the former Stormtrooper, “…I like it.”

 

“I don’t care what you like.”

 

“I imagine you don’t.” Hux shook his head, “But, before you shoot me…why don’t you try to recall the last thing I said to you before your…dramatic exit from the First Order?”

 

Hux could sense Finn’s mind searching his subconscious before he could see the confusion etched across his face. He knew Finn didn’t have the advantage that Rey had, he had never had any training in the Force, he didn’t know what it felt like to feel the Force in everything he did…or, at least, he didn’t recognize it as the Force.

 

So perhaps he would need a little help…

 

After so many sessions of “reconditioning,” it was easy to connect with Finn’s mind, searching the chaotic thoughts and feelings for the memory in question…

 

 _“Stop pretending.”_  
  


_“Sir?” FN-2187 looked up, confusion lacing his voice. What was the General talking about…?_  
  


_“What you are wanting to do, you’ll need a pilot.” A pilot…he would need a pilot if he wanted to escape…_

_“Stop pretending.”_

 

Finn took an involuntary step backward, his eyes wide as he watched Hux, “It was you?” His voice was little more than whisper, “You told me I’d need a pilot…”

 

“I did.” Hux nodded, “Though I take no credit for your actual escape, all I did was…encourage a thought that had been festering in your mind for quite some time.”

 

“Why?”

 

Hux smiled softly, leaning his head back against the wall, “I imagine we will have many a conversations, the two of us, unraveling and answering that question. But I have a feeling that someone else’s questions are demanding to be heard.” His eyes drifted to Rey gently, who was standing at Finn’s side now.

 

As Hux’s eyes met hers once more, Rey began to move forward, carefully stepping over Delteff’s body (he hoped she believed him to be sleeping…) before moving down to one knee, “You know who I am.”

 

“I do.” Hux nodded slowly, “Though I hadn’t seen you since you were a little girl…”

 

“It’s true, then?” She whispered, “That I…I was one of Skywalker’s pupils?”

 

Hux smiled softly, “Yes, you were. Bright young thing, you were too.” He couldn’t help it, he reached out to touch Rey’s cheek gently, rubbing his thumb over her barely there freckles, “You were always so eager to learn, no matter how boring the lesson, or how many times Ben and I, or Master Skywalker, ran you through a kata…” He chuckled quietly, “You even wear your hair the same, I didn’t notice that before…”

 

Emotions began to seep across Rey’s face as she leaned to his gentle touch, though Hux doubted even Rey knew what emotions she was feeling, “Why don’t I remember? Why can’t I remember anything before my family left my on Jakku?”

 

“You don’t remember the Jedi temple, Rey, because I’m the one who locked away your memories.” Hux murmured, cradling her cheek in his hand, “The things you saw, Rey…the night of the massacre…no child should have seen. I couldn’t have you remembering until you were ready to deal with them.

 

“As for why you were left on Jakku…that, I do not have an answer for. When I left you, you were entrusted to a family who were to raise you as your own. You should have been on Dantooine being raised like an ordinary child, not scavenging alone on Jakku…you shouldn’t have been alone…” He took a deep breath to center himself. It would be no good to allow his emotions, his anger, to take control, especially not in front of Rey…

 

A sigh escaped him as he released his emotions to the Force, “However…had you not been on Jakku…from what I understand, Finn and the droid would never had made it safely to the Resistance…” He looked to Finn, who seemed interested in the pattern of the floor, before looking back to Rey, “The Force does indeed work in mysterious ways…”

 

Rey moved closer, their faces mere inches from each other, “Can you unlock my memories? I want to remember…I want to remember everything…even the bad.”

 

Hux smiled softly, “I can unlock your memories…just…not in my current state.” Both Rey and Finn’s gazes flicked down to his side and his useless mech arm before looking back up at his face, “But once I’m back to my full strength, I will do whatever you need me to do. That goes the same to you, Finn.”

 

Finn frowned, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

 

“There’s much you need to learn about the Force, Finn.” Hux nodded, “But, for now, I imagine you’re both being missed by the pilot and copilot.”

 

Finn jerked as though stung, “Poe didn’t want us back here…”

 

“No doubt he didn’t want you to see me, because, well…my previous history with the First Order.” Hux shook his head, “But before you leave, Rey, I think I have something you might like.”

 

With his flesh hand, Hux reached down into his boot, “I had hoped to be able to use this against Revan Ren when he attacked us, but he unfortunately didn’t give me the chance…” carefully, without touching the ignition, Hux retrieved Caedus’s lightsaber.

 

“It’s another lightsaber…” Finn’s curiosity was obviously outweighing any fear of ramifications of disobeying mister Dameron, it seemed.

 

“Yes, though more specifically, it’s a lightstaff. I may have pilfered it off of a dead Knight of Ren.” He carefully pressed the weapon into Rey’s hand.

 

Rey examined the dark weapon in her hand, “You want me to use this?”

 

“Maybe not now, or maybe not ever, you could salvage it for parts to build your own lightsaber when you’re ready.” Hux nodded, “But no sense wasting a lightsaber when they’re in such short demand, and I think this may be better suited for you than me…though,” he chuckled, “we will need to get you new crystals, no doubt. Red is not your color.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ben wasn’t a fool, he knew that Finn and Rey had gone to see Braeda the moment they stepped into the _Falcon_ _’s_ cockpit. He was sure Poe could tell as well, it wasn’t exactly an observation one needed to use the Force for.

 

“So how was your conversation with Braeda?” Ben asked as casually as he could, attempting to seem more focused on preparing the _Falcon_ to exit hyperspace than the conversation.

 

Neither Finn nor Rey answered immediately, and Ben looked to Poe out of the corner of his eye, only to find the pilot looking back at him in the same manner.

 

“He’s…interesting…” Finn murmured. “He’s…oddly calm about everything

 

Ben nodded, guiding the _Falcon_ as it entered the Ileenium system, “Sounds about right. When we were kids, Braeda mastered releasing his emotions to the Force faster than the rest of us, and after that, it was very rare to see an emotional outburst from him.”

 

Poe spared a glance back at Finn, “And…how did you react to seeing General Hux?”

 

“I wanted to shoot him.” Finn admitted, “But…”

 

There was a crackle on the com unit as it came to life once more, interrupting their conversation.

 

_“D’Qar Base to Millennium Falcon, do you copy, Falcon?”_

Poe frowned slightly at the communication officer on the other end, but flicked the com unit’s receiver anyway, “D’Qar Base, this is Black leader with Millennium Falcon. Can I ask how you got this frequency?”

 

 _“I gave it to them, Commander.”_ Ben sat up ever so slightly straighter in his seat at the sound of his mother’s voice, even if he logically knew that she could neither see him nor judge him, “ _Black Leader, you are cleared to land. Please be advised, we have medical staff on stand by for any injured you may have, and the base is awaiting the arrival of our_ _…guests.”_

Poe looked at Ben, and Ben stared back at Poe. His mother had informed the Resistance of their mission, and they were awaiting for them to land. He wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that…

 

The Commander carefully turned his attention back to the com unit, “General, please be advised: we have several guests in need of medical attention, as well as your…package.” He gave Ben a look, but Ben could only shrug. What else were they to call Braeda? “But he needs to be rushed to Medical as well, so I’m afraid we will have to forgo any medal ceremonies, or, you know, any large welcoming parties you might have planned for today. I will be free tomorrow if you’d like to reschedule for that medal…”

 

The line cut abruptly, leaving the cockpit in complete silence for half a beat.

 

“Does my mother often hang up on you?” Ben raised an eyebrow.

 

“Only when I talk too much.” Poe nodded, “Though I think we have a bigger problem of how your mother is going to react when she finds out that her mole is her military nemesis.”

 

* * *

 

 

They were in D’Qar’s airspace, Hux could feel it: the subtle shift in the way the _Falcon_ moved, now fighting the effects of atmosphere and gravity. It wouldn’t be long now…

 

How strange, that he should return to the Resistance surrounded by wounded First Order officers and reunited with the youngling he had fought so hard to save…

 

Though, if Hux was honest with himself, he was sure he hadn’t quite expected to return to the Resistance at all…

 

He could hear the door open again, though when Hux looked up, it was Ben who was crossing the threshold carefully, minding the wounded officers that littered the floor.

 

“We’ll be landing soon.” Ben stated quietly, stepping over Delteff’s body. He paused, looking at the ensign, and Hux knew that Ben could sense the lack of life in the young man.

 

Hux tried not to think about Delteff, “I had a feeling we were close to landing…flying through air is different than space…”

 

Ben nodded slowly, moving to Hux’s side, “Medical staff are waiting at the base.”

 

“Good, I hope not to lose any more of these officers.” Hux nodded, avoiding looking at Rodinon, who had returned to hanging his head between his knees in a gesture of utter defeat.

 

Ben raised a curious eyebrow as he spared a glance at the wounded officers once more, “Why are you so protective of these particular officers?”

 

Hux looked at Ben carefully, “Because they had enough conscience to know that what _Starkiller_ did to Hosnian was unforgivable…and they had the resourcefulness and the courage to take the chance to escape when they could.” He lowered his voice, “They’re all very similar to Finn in that regard…they just haven’t found their cause yet…”

 

“Braeda.”

 

Blinking, Hux looked up at Ben.

 

“You don’t have to save the entire universe…” Ben shook his head slowly.

 

The low whine of the _Falcon_ could be heard as the final approach began, the ship slowly sinking back down to D’Qar’s terra firma.

 

“We made it…” Hux whispered, and, at once, the tension that seemed to be holding Hux’s body upright, the adrenalin that kept him functioning, melted away in one moment, leaving him not choice but to fall against Ben in a boneless heap. “We actually made it…”

 

Ben’s arms wrapped around Hux’s body slowly, pulling him all the closer against his broad chest. Hux could get used to that chest… “You’re safe now, Braeda…” He murmured, “We still have some issues with figuring out how to reveal your identity to the Resistance and all…”

 

“Doesn’t matter…” Hux sighed, resting his head against Ben’s shoulder, “We’ll figure it out…”

 

Ben nodded slowly, “We’ll get your wounds taken care of, then…we’ll figure it out…”

 

Hux could hear the _Falcon_ _’s_ hatch opening, as well as the chaos of various Resistance members that were no doubt headed to greet the incoming ship. They didn’t have much time left alone then… “Ben, before I forget, or in case something happens, I lo—”

 

“I know.” Ben smiled softly down at him.

 

With one last exasperated sigh, Hux closed his eyes.

 

And Braeda smiled.

 

“You’re supposed to wait until _after_ I finish saying “I love you.”” He murmured, wrapping his arm slowly around Ben’s neck.

 

“I know.” Ben repeated, leaning in to close the final gap between them.

 

It wasn’t a long kiss to take Braeda’s breath away. It wasn’t a passionate kiss to make Braeda’s hair stand on end. It wasn’t a perfectly coordinated kiss, as Ben’s nose pressed against his own uncomfortably. And in no way did a single kiss solve the problems of their lives. Fifteen years worth of lies, deceit, espionage, and murder hung over them like a raging storm cloud just waiting to rain down its tempest. They had yet begun to heal.

 

But a simple kiss, one between two souls reunited at long last…it was a good place to start.

 

As Ben broke the kiss gently, Braeda found himself reluctant to part from Ben’s lips, like a dying man separated from his last sip of water.

 

“We’re going to figure this out, Braeda.” Ben murmured, carefully picking Braeda up.

 

Braeda nodded in response, “I know.”

 

* * *

 

 

They made their way out of the room, Braeda’s face pressed against Ben’s neck, just as the first medical officers appeared in the corridor. Time seemed to slow as they made their way off of the _Falcon,_ stepping out of the way for medical officers making their way onto the ship to tend to the wounded, and leading the way for the wounded to be escorted off the ship. Chaos, it seemed, made recognizing faces rather difficult.

 

Braeda could feel Ben breathe a sigh of relief as he stepped off the _Falcon_ _’s_ gangplank and onto the hard ground of D’Qar’s surface, though he didn’t stop in his pace, continuing straight forward. And, when Braeda allowed himself the luxury of peaking out to see where they were headed, he could see the familiar stature he never though he’d see again.

 

“Mother…” Ben huffed, moving quickly passed her in effort to keep from being stopped, though Braeda could head the Resistance General’s quick footsteps keeping up with Ben’s long strides.

 

Braeda could feel a small, warm hand against his knee, and was suddenly reminded of how he missed those hands.

 

“Welcome home, Braeda.” General Organa murmured softly, rubbing a small circle with her thumb against his knee.

 

“Thank you, General…” He whispered, unable to help himself as he pulled away from hiding his face against Ben, looking at the woman with whom he had only been able to send one way communications.

 

Braeda could feel the shock and confusion from General Organa long before the emotions registered on her face, but he could hardly blame her.

 

“I think I may have gone a bit overboard with infiltrating the First Order…” He offered weakly.

 

Leia Organa stared at him, still keeping in stride with her son, still keeping her hand on Braeda’s knee, and Braeda could nearly see her mind catching up with the situation. Then, he could feel her presence in the Force, not as strong as his master's, but still there, reaching out for him. And Braeda was more than happy to embrace it. 

 

“Well…” She began, withdrawing her presence slowly, “This certainly complicates things…”

 

“We’ll figure it out.” Ben remarked, “But first, Medical.”

 

Braeda’s body couldn’t help but agree with Ben, as the cold of Ilum and Caedus Ren’s lightsaber and Rodinon’s choking grasp all began to catch up with him. No doubt he’d be in a bacta bath for quite some time, though he truly could not bring himself to think of anything else.

 

Medical first.

 

Then…they’ll figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that the end of Wake Up, Sleeper? Yes. Might I add an epilogue to add a scene I debated on adding, but couldn't because it's two in the morning? Yes. Is that a strange place to end? Yes. Are there a lot of unanswered questions/unresolved conflicts? Yes.
> 
> But I have good news: There will be a sequel to this. This may not be a huge surprise to some of you, especially those who follow me on tumblr, but Wake Up, Dreamer is already in the works and a special sneak peek will be appearing on my tumblr within the next few days.
> 
> This has been an awesome journey guys, and I look forward to getting the next one started! As always, let me know what you think, what your ideas are, and what things you think would be awesome to include in Wake Up, Dreamer!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, or what you'd like to see next!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Wake Up, Sleeper [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6707608) by [Carpe_History](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carpe_History/pseuds/Carpe_History), [penpenhooray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penpenhooray/pseuds/penpenhooray)




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